<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:14:22.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never a Dull Moment...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>150</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4713429195396991957</id><published>2010-09-22T20:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T20:04:27.829-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Paige's Baptism</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxFmitCyI/AAAAAAAABUc/s0aQHJFDGpU/s1600/100_4935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxFmitCyI/AAAAAAAABUc/s0aQHJFDGpU/s400/100_4935.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Can't believe this has really happened!!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;How did my little girl grow up and turn 8?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxBu2lWCI/AAAAAAAABUU/Kw0PCAk82RA/s1600/100_4932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxBu2lWCI/AAAAAAAABUU/Kw0PCAk82RA/s400/100_4932.JPG" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Paige Brookelynn Vincent was baptized by her father on Saturday, Sept. 4, 2010&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxOSCx2pI/AAAAAAAABUk/9o0GfJsUvzc/s1600/100_4936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxOSCx2pI/AAAAAAAABUk/9o0GfJsUvzc/s320/100_4936.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Paige was lucky to share the day with two of her little friends, Madelyn Dobbins (on her right) and Julia Zeyer (on her left).&amp;nbsp; These little girls were so cute and SO excited!!&amp;nbsp; Paige was the last of the three to be baptized that day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxRa6t1EI/AAAAAAAABUs/_ZAjlFpGGCg/s1600/100_4940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxRa6t1EI/AAAAAAAABUs/_ZAjlFpGGCg/s320/100_4940.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;After Paige got out of the water, I met her at the top of the font  stairs and took her into the dressing room.&amp;nbsp; She started giggling and  squealed to me, "I can't believe I really just got BAPTIZED!!"&amp;nbsp; Paige  had chosen her Grandpa Terry to give the opening prayer and her Aunt  Valerie to give a talk on the Holy Ghost (who both did an amazing  job!!)&amp;nbsp; She asked Grandpa Lynn to be a witness and also asked her cousin  Brady, who she looks up to and just adores.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxWWYltcI/AAAAAAAABU0/p-b0oxzm18U/s1600/100_4945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxWWYltcI/AAAAAAAABU0/p-b0oxzm18U/s320/100_4945.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Paige with her "twin cousin", Katherine&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Paige invited SO many guests and friends to watch her!&amp;nbsp; She wanted to share it with everyone she knew!!&amp;nbsp; After the ordinance, we invited all her friends over for a hot-dog barbeque.&amp;nbsp; It turned out great and she was just thrilled to be "Queen for the day".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxeWqMDJI/AAAAAAAABU8/nd5xFXz6dLk/s1600/100_4950.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxeWqMDJI/AAAAAAAABU8/nd5xFXz6dLk/s400/100_4950.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxi9Bsm_I/AAAAAAAABVE/zv-YWuxObWM/s1600/100_4959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxi9Bsm_I/AAAAAAAABVE/zv-YWuxObWM/s320/100_4959.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Paige was super excited to be able to pick out her own set of scriptures and have her name put on them.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, they spelled her name wrong the first time, so they ended up replacing the first set with a much nicer, more expensive set because they didn't have the ones she had originally picked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxnzl17RI/AAAAAAAABVM/KN1-Qyfp2RA/s1600/100_4961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxnzl17RI/AAAAAAAABVM/KN1-Qyfp2RA/s320/100_4961.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is a tradition of Grandma and Grandpa Vincent to give each of their grandchildren a comforter when they get baptized to represent the Holy Ghost.&amp;nbsp; Aunt Valerie found this white fluffy one that truly warms you right up!&amp;nbsp; Looks like Paige isn't the only one that loves it!&amp;nbsp; Sadly for Bode, this is the last time he will ever be allowed to snuggle under it since he drooled chocolate and big sister has forbid him to ever touch it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We are so proud of our little Paige-a-Roo!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4713429195396991957?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4713429195396991957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4713429195396991957' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4713429195396991957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4713429195396991957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/09/paiges-baptism.html' title='Paige&apos;s Baptism'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TJqxFmitCyI/AAAAAAAABUc/s0aQHJFDGpU/s72-c/100_4935.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6267277759416985558</id><published>2010-08-05T19:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T18:22:09.710-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bode Vincent-VanGogh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpNQqiljI/AAAAAAAABT0/0W9l2cy2umw/s1600/100_4757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpNQqiljI/AAAAAAAABT0/0W9l2cy2umw/s320/100_4757.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpPRVZNEI/AAAAAAAABT8/UVY9nOSYPPw/s1600/100_4758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpPRVZNEI/AAAAAAAABT8/UVY9nOSYPPw/s400/100_4758.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It appears that Bode may have a future in art.&amp;nbsp; One might think that by documenting and photographing such a display that I encourage this behavior, or even tolerate it.&amp;nbsp; That is not the case.&amp;nbsp; This is simply a test of "one day I might think this was cute".&amp;nbsp; Today is not that day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpQwdD_LI/AAAAAAAABUE/QkGNAL_Emfo/s1600/100_4761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpQwdD_LI/AAAAAAAABUE/QkGNAL_Emfo/s640/100_4761.JPG" width="480" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sadly, this is not the first time Bode has tried to "express himself" in the art world.&amp;nbsp; His displays have been found several times in the past month or so.&amp;nbsp; You would think that big sisters would learn to put their markers away, especially after mommy has thrown so many of them away!&amp;nbsp; Bode's "works of art" have been found in purple on the entryway tile, royal blue on the living room wall and my bedroom door, pink on the toilet seat, red on the antique white buffet, black Sharpie on the basement fireplace, and today pink in his bedroom.&amp;nbsp; All markers have been disposed of in such a dramatic manner that the girls think they have "struck it rich" since I offered them a quarter for every marker they could bring me to chuck in the trash.&amp;nbsp; $11.75 later (plus the cost of 3 Mr. Clean Magic Erasers) I think we can FINALLY put this era to rest.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6267277759416985558?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6267277759416985558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6267277759416985558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6267277759416985558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6267277759416985558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/08/bode-vincent-vangogh.html' title='Bode Vincent-VanGogh'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFtpNQqiljI/AAAAAAAABT0/0W9l2cy2umw/s72-c/100_4757.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6994857783373344327</id><published>2010-08-04T14:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T14:10:39.633-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Big changes for the Bod-ster</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;As sweet as Bode has always been, he has always been a sickly little boy.&amp;nbsp; It seems like he was prone to catching every little bug and it would take him weeks to get over.&amp;nbsp; At one of his recent sick visits, another doctor in the practice asked me if I was concerned about him being developmentally delayed.&amp;nbsp; I hadn't really thought much of it until that point.&amp;nbsp; To me, he was just perfect just the way he was!&amp;nbsp; But I scheduled an appointment with his regular doctor to discuss it.&amp;nbsp; I talked to Dr. Lash about how Bode didn't talk and I was concerned about him snoring.&amp;nbsp; Sleeping next to Bode had actually made me wonder on several occasions if he had apnea like his daddy.&amp;nbsp; Bode has had a positive strep test 5 times since Christmas so Dr. Lash sent us to an ENT to rule out tonsils before we jumped into sleep disorders.&amp;nbsp; I "self-chose" Dr. Garner Meads.&amp;nbsp; He was in my stake growing up and had taken Paige's tonsils out when she was just a few months older than Bode.&amp;nbsp; I was told that tonsillectomy's are no longer common in children under 3 or 30 lbs. due to scar tissue later in life that created problems.&amp;nbsp; But, he told me that Bode's adenoids were huge and needed to come out and that his ears needed tubes.&amp;nbsp; There is a fluid behind your ears that helps with balance and hearing.&amp;nbsp; Bode's was at a dead stand-still.&amp;nbsp; Dr. Meads told me that Bode wasn't talking because he wasn't hearing!&amp;nbsp; I was crushed!!&amp;nbsp; How was a mommy supposed to know her baby couldn't hear if he responded to my voice?&amp;nbsp; He rephrased...Bode couldn't hear clear sounds.&amp;nbsp; To him, everything sounded like it was underwater.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFm_b1eI6WI/AAAAAAAABTk/zF6caWTbSVs/s400/bode-car.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: blue;"&gt;Bode, just hours after surgery&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We scheduled surgery as soon as possible, which was the following week.&amp;nbsp; June 25, we took my sweet boy in to have his adenoids removed at the South Towne Surgical Center.&amp;nbsp; The girls had spent the night at Aunt Marnie's so they could sleep since we had to check in at 5:30.&amp;nbsp; It went beautifully!&amp;nbsp; They were completely done within 40 minutes and we were able to just sit with BoBo while he woke up.&amp;nbsp; Dr. Meads told us that his adenoids were blocking more than half of his airway and were hiding severe infection underneath them.&amp;nbsp; He was put on antibiotics to kill that and we were told to let him rest for the day and he could eat and play when he was ready.&amp;nbsp; After picking up the girls, Bode and I went in to bed for a long nap, considering I had come straight from work to Bode's surgery.&amp;nbsp; He and I slept nicely for several hours before he wanted to get up and play.&amp;nbsp; They weren't kidding about kids bouncing right back from surgery!&amp;nbsp; That evening Bode played outside in the backyard with the girls and wanted Cheetos for dinner.&amp;nbsp; He was very tired the next several days and would nap for 4-5 hours every afternoon, but never acted like he was in pain.&amp;nbsp; Little trooper!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFm_i9e1fII/AAAAAAAABTs/R6c2w0ufhFs/s400/100_4752.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It has been several weeks since Bode's surgery, and his post-op appointment went well.&amp;nbsp; It took a second round of antibiotics to kill all the infection left behind from his adenoids, but he is one healthy, happy boy now!&amp;nbsp; We could almost instantly see a difference in him.&amp;nbsp; He has started saying a few words: Mom, Da-Da, Ba-Ba (bottle), HOT (every time we get in the car), help, more, and of course...ball.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Shortly into his recovery, I decided that the poor little guy had suffered enough and but his beautiful locks off!&amp;nbsp; With the heat of the summer, a full head of long hair was just making Bode sweat.&amp;nbsp; My cute hairdresser, CoriAnn was super excited to give him a makeover.&amp;nbsp; I know nothing about boy hair, so I gave her free reign.&amp;nbsp; It took a little getting used to.&amp;nbsp; He just looked like such a big boy!&amp;nbsp; But I absolutely LOVE it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Bode is such a little comedian and has such a sweet little laugh!&amp;nbsp; He has his cute little quirks that we just love!&amp;nbsp; For example, he has to have his Dora pillow right in the middle of Steve's and mine, BUT our pillows are not allowed to touch his, and if anyone lays on his pillow, he pushes them right off.&amp;nbsp; He likes to be tucked in with his blue polka-dot snuggle blankie, which he will search out if it's not there.&amp;nbsp; He holds his binky in one hand while he drinks his bottle and does a quick change and hands the bottle off to you when he is done.&amp;nbsp; Bode is truly the product of two big sisters because he loves to push babies in the doll stroller and always wants to play with the shopping cart outside.&amp;nbsp; But yet, he is all boy in that he has quite a throwing arm, and LOVES to play with cars, trucks, trains and BALLS!&amp;nbsp; He will make "choo choo" sounds and wants to throw ANYTHING round.&amp;nbsp; I took him grocery shopping with me last week and the first thing he saw was a display of grapes.&amp;nbsp; He instantly pointed and asked for some "balls".&amp;nbsp; With a face like that, what mom would say no?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6994857783373344327?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6994857783373344327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6994857783373344327' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6994857783373344327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6994857783373344327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/08/big-changes-for-bod-ster.html' title='Big changes for the Bod-ster'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TFm_b1eI6WI/AAAAAAAABTk/zF6caWTbSVs/s72-c/bode-car.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-263857142665342057</id><published>2010-07-26T00:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T00:16:06.483-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where the Wild Things Are...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0mbxanzxI/AAAAAAAABTc/I-BIe3tJ3s0/s1600/100_4671.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0mbxanzxI/AAAAAAAABTc/I-BIe3tJ3s0/s400/100_4671.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498092978652565266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wow, this seems like a long time ago!!  I have always tried to avoid going to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt; right on Memorial Day, but this year we had to make an exception.  Actually, I have been avoiding it all together since my favorite one-or-a-kind burger place, Eat A Burger, went out of business on my mom's birthday in January.  That has always been a pick-me-up after visiting my mom's grave. But this year, we met my dad and Terry for french toast at Kneader's and then headed off to the cemetery.  My dad decided to join us!  Who knew it would be such a party there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0mbYc8CeI/AAAAAAAABTU/JUP7ZukVojI/s1600/100_4675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0mbYc8CeI/AAAAAAAABTU/JUP7ZukVojI/s400/100_4675.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498092971951393250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, it was terribly crowded, and yes, parking was a nightmare, but there was also a HUGE Memorial Day celebration!  There were hot dogs and soda, a bagpiper (Steve was in Heaven) and a face painter!  The girls absolutely LOVED it!  This lady was so fantastic and so quick!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0ma9BcLRI/AAAAAAAABTM/rhhR9PbFNWg/s1600/100_4676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 353px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0ma9BcLRI/AAAAAAAABTM/rhhR9PbFNWg/s400/100_4676.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498092964588301586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And just LOOK at the great creations she made out of my two little animals!&lt;br /&gt;(And yes...I got her number!)&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/2839229465856949694-263857142665342057?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/263857142665342057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=263857142665342057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/263857142665342057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/263857142665342057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-wild-things-are.html' title='Where the Wild Things Are...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TE0mbxanzxI/AAAAAAAABTc/I-BIe3tJ3s0/s72-c/100_4671.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5776055086290128987</id><published>2010-07-14T14:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T14:43:23.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dancing Ladies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4eWuWaBPI/AAAAAAAABTE/buOd4t_5RKE/s1600/may2010+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4eWuWaBPI/AAAAAAAABTE/buOd4t_5RKE/s400/may2010+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861971186550002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This really is my favorite time of year.  Not only is the weather FINALLY starting to warm up, but the girls have their spring dance recital!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4eWM6D-gI/AAAAAAAABS8/gmCwI9FMrZU/s1600/100_4678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4eWM6D-gI/AAAAAAAABS8/gmCwI9FMrZU/s400/100_4678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861962209294850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think it's that overwhelming sense of pride I get as a mother when I see my little girls on stage, looking SO beautiful, performing something they have worked so hard on.  I just LOVE it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d5BKxZxI/AAAAAAAABS0/BI6ouspBOvA/s1600/100_4681.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d5BKxZxI/AAAAAAAABS0/BI6ouspBOvA/s400/100_4681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861460841948946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This year, Paige took a jazz/tumbling class.  Although she is a really good dancer, I think she prefers the tumbling.  She is getting "quite bendy" as she tells me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d4YTbbDI/AAAAAAAABSs/HZKxb9v1Et8/s1600/100_4682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d4YTbbDI/AAAAAAAABSs/HZKxb9v1Et8/s400/100_4682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861449872403506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Paige met her cute friend Camry in kindergarten last year.  They have such a fun time playing together, but with the new school opening in our area, Camry moved to the new school for first grade.  Luckily, she wanted to take dance with Paige so they still got to see each other once a week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d390jFXI/AAAAAAAABSk/V7Gc9L20Z2k/s1600/may2010+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d390jFXI/AAAAAAAABSk/V7Gc9L20Z2k/s400/may2010+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861442763560306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Claire took ballet/tap this year.  I have been so impressed with how quickly she picks up on things in class and when she performs she is never the girl watching everyone else.  She knows her moves! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d3CqSPjI/AAAAAAAABSc/9JeA2yCnRMw/s1600/100_4685.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d3CqSPjI/AAAAAAAABSc/9JeA2yCnRMw/s400/100_4685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861426882821682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Claire is in the same class with her friend Ali.  I don't know if they love taking dance together so much as the tradition of our families going to kids night at Chick-A-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fila&lt;/span&gt; after class almost every week.  Poor Claire had a rough recital day this year.  There she was on stage in her cute little foam curlers for dress rehearsal practicing the finale when she started to feel sick.  She stood up, turned around and went running for Paige.  Suddenly I hear Miss Tiffany in the microphone yelling my name.  "Brooke Vincent...Brooke Vincent!!  She's puking!!!"  So with all the grace an overweight mother could muster, I ran to the stage and since the stairs were flooded with dancing girls I jumped onto it, pulling myself up with my enormous butt high in the air.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;AHHH&lt;/span&gt;...a mother's love.   Poor Claire had handfuls of vomit, dripping onto her feet and all over the stage.  After a little cleanup (and a Coke &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;slurpee&lt;/span&gt; on the way home) she was fine.  Claire took a long nap that afternoon and was ready to roll by recital time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d2jtu7HI/AAAAAAAABSU/4SM2cDwxKww/s1600/may2010+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4d2jtu7HI/AAAAAAAABSU/4SM2cDwxKww/s400/may2010+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493861418575785074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just LOVE these girls!!  They danced so well, and looked so amazingly beautiful!&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/2839229465856949694-5776055086290128987?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5776055086290128987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5776055086290128987' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5776055086290128987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5776055086290128987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/07/dancing-ladies.html' title='The Dancing Ladies!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TD4eWuWaBPI/AAAAAAAABTE/buOd4t_5RKE/s72-c/may2010+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5459344084505298094</id><published>2010-07-06T13:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T14:00:07.724-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Golden Start...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDOEesGvWWI/AAAAAAAABSM/VvQqjZGK3Wk/s1600/100_4614.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDOEesGvWWI/AAAAAAAABSM/VvQqjZGK3Wk/s400/100_4614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490878033465137506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We have another graduate from Miss Kathy's Golden Start preschool!  My baby girl had her last day last month and was so excited to show us what she learned at her graduation program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDODZhKSOaI/AAAAAAAABR8/gpeMeT-uw8o/s1600/Collage27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDODZhKSOaI/AAAAAAAABR8/gpeMeT-uw8o/s400/Collage27.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490876845116242338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Granted it was the same program as when Paige graduated, but it was equally as special to me to watch Claire sing and dance on stage.  I love Miss Kathy's rendition of the Three Little Pigs and in their nursery rhyme portion Claire got to play Old Mother Hubbard with her little friend Ella as her dog that didn't get a bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDODZJtWGzI/AAAAAAAABR0/OFCQZZgDLu0/s1600/100_4648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDODZJtWGzI/AAAAAAAABR0/OFCQZZgDLu0/s400/100_4648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490876838820846386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No graduation program would be complete without self-portrait's adorning the theatre and a slide show of the great year they had!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDODYTsLWzI/AAAAAAAABRs/-VJs5M91W-4/s1600/100_4647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDODYTsLWzI/AAAAAAAABRs/-VJs5M91W-4/s400/100_4647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490876824320432946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thank you Miss Kathy!  We are so grateful for everything you have taught our sweet girls. Can't wait until &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bode's&lt;/span&gt; turn!  But for now, we will just count the days until kindergarten!&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/2839229465856949694-5459344084505298094?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5459344084505298094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5459344084505298094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5459344084505298094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5459344084505298094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/07/another-golden-start.html' title='Another Golden Start...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TDOEesGvWWI/AAAAAAAABSM/VvQqjZGK3Wk/s72-c/100_4614.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8903628714579741638</id><published>2010-06-22T13:33:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T13:46:23.405-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Formal Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERKbGvlRI/AAAAAAAABRk/il4OupcRvWs/s1600/100_4568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERKbGvlRI/AAAAAAAABRk/il4OupcRvWs/s400/100_4568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485684691886380306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our last formal night on the ship was by far better than the first.  Probably because no one was sick!  During the past week, we had become very close with our waiter, Cupid from St. Vincent.  Earlier in the week I had asked him if Creme &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Brulee&lt;/span&gt; was on the menu again during the cruise.  We had it on the first night and I had been dreaming of it ever since!  Tonight he showed up with a special surprise...Creme &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Brulee&lt;/span&gt; for everyone!!  I couldn't have been happier!  I actually think Steve got up and hugged him! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERJ2S2r_I/AAAAAAAABRc/iszLm8aMIJM/s1600/100_4571.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERJ2S2r_I/AAAAAAAABRc/iszLm8aMIJM/s400/100_4571.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485684682005065714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kirk, however, was not so appreciative of the dessert.  So, Steve began making jokes to Cupid about throwing Kirk overboard.  He must have thought Steve was incredibly funny because he kept bringing other staff over, telling Steve to tell them about the "splash in the night".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERJR0a6iI/AAAAAAAABRU/BtY3a7TRhYk/s1600/100_4574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERJR0a6iI/AAAAAAAABRU/BtY3a7TRhYk/s400/100_4574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485684672213740066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERJN6zzQI/AAAAAAAABRM/mOSi-KuwO1E/s1600/scan06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERJN6zzQI/AAAAAAAABRM/mOSi-KuwO1E/s400/scan06.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485684671166795010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Throughout the cruise, I was set on getting just one good picture of the two of us.  Since it really has been since our engagement pictures over 10 years ago.  So I dragged Steve to every photographer on the ship.  I'm sure to Carnival's joy, we found several!!  I think we spent more on pictures than tips!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERIrq0zOI/AAAAAAAABRE/aBCgWdUkkOU/s1600/100_4688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERIrq0zOI/AAAAAAAABRE/aBCgWdUkkOU/s400/100_4688.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485684661972946146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Steve and I are so grateful to be able to spend the week together.  It was so nice to get away and remember each other a little bit, since that seems to get lost in the shuffle of kids and daily life.  And it was even better to have such great friends to share it with!&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/2839229465856949694-8903628714579741638?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8903628714579741638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8903628714579741638' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8903628714579741638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8903628714579741638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/06/formal-night.html' title='Formal Night'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TCERKbGvlRI/AAAAAAAABRk/il4OupcRvWs/s72-c/100_4568.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4712414420630736845</id><published>2010-06-09T17:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T18:02:19.340-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Stop...St. Maarten</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmZQkD6OI/AAAAAAAABQ8/ePzPvzDAJwg/s1600/100_4537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmZQkD6OI/AAAAAAAABQ8/ePzPvzDAJwg/s400/100_4537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480922961894697186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our last stop...We had no plans for our day in St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Maarten&lt;/span&gt;.  Our friends, Kirk and Teresa, are scuba certified, so they had planned to go an a two-tank dive.  Alan, Amanda, Steve and I planned to do some shopping and head to the beach!  The cruise port there was kind of weird.  It let you off in a very small shopping center, but to get to the main part of the island, you had to ride a water taxi.  They loaded us in like sardines and they were blaring a steel drum song about "Welcome to St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Maarten&lt;/span&gt;."  It reminded me a lot of Will Smith's "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Beinvenido&lt;/span&gt; a Miami!"  Once on the water taxi, Steve tried to clean his sunglasses on his shirt and overestimated his strength, snapping the frame and popping out the lens.  He was not happy, but once again, I was laughing at him!  Luckily for him, we found a sun visor as we stepped of the boat and wandered until we found a drug store to buy some super glue.  The locals there were VERY pushy.  This one guy kept following us around just begging us to rent some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ATV's&lt;/span&gt; from him to ride around the island.  We had heard from our waitress in Orlando to NEVER let the salespeople put jewelry on you.  Once it was on, you just bought it.  As we were shopping, we walked past a jewelry store where a man and woman were talking with their friends at the door saying, "I just thought they were trying it on me for size, but I just bought a $8000 diamond bracelet!"  So, I guess it is true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmY00t1uI/AAAAAAAABQ0/peBjclxjZ5E/s1600/100_4538.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmY00t1uI/AAAAAAAABQ0/peBjclxjZ5E/s400/100_4538.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480922954448361186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At this point in our trip, Steve had caught the bug that had been floating around.  He was not feeling great, so we laid low today.  We rode a CRAZY taxi van to the other side of the island to Orient Beach.  It was beautiful...the water was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;turquoise&lt;/span&gt; blue and perfectly warm, the sand was white and soft on your feet.  We hadn't intended on swimming at a nude beach, but there were a few there who were topless that definitely shouldn't have been!  It was here that we saw more banana hammocks than we ever care to again in our lives!  Since I don't believe in photographing myself in my swimwear (maybe in another 50 lbs!) this is all we got...no one we know is in the water here, but this is where we spent the afternoon!  Before we met our taxi to head back, we decided we were starving and stopped at a little restaurant on the beach.  We didn't realize that since we were on the French side of the island, all the prices were in Euros.  We ended up with a $6 bottle of water!!  Life is expensive on the beach!  We thought we were living it up by ordering calamari and cheeseburgers, but apparently not since halfway through our meal, a waited walked over to a little well next to us, picked out a fresh lobster and took it, LIVE, to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;some one's&lt;/span&gt; table.  I guess they agreed that it was "the one" they wanted for lunch, took a few pictures of it, and sent it back to be cooked up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmYA5SvgI/AAAAAAAABQs/-YeOqwnfVd0/s1600/kitchen+tour.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmYA5SvgI/AAAAAAAABQs/-YeOqwnfVd0/s400/kitchen+tour.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480922940508913154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once we left St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Maarten&lt;/span&gt;, we had 2 days at sea.  If you have been on a cruise, you know that the food is spectacular!  I casually mentioned to our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;maitre'd&lt;/span&gt; one night that I would LOVE to see their kitchen.  I guess he liked us, because he told us if we kept the information on the down low, we could sneak into a kitchen tour the next morning that was just for Platinum guests!  Seeing the kitchen really was one of the highlights of the trip!  It was amazing to me!  They told us that they actually stock the ship with 2 weeks worth of food, just in case something happened and we got stuck at sea.  They had one big board with pictures of all their menus.  Then they separated it into sections where each dish was prepared.  Each section had a list of menu items, directions on preparation, and photos so they could make the display attractive to the eye...because the food is equally as beautiful as it is delicious!&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/2839229465856949694-4712414420630736845?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4712414420630736845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4712414420630736845' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4712414420630736845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4712414420630736845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/06/last-stopst-maarten.html' title='Last Stop...St. Maarten'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TBAmZQkD6OI/AAAAAAAABQ8/ePzPvzDAJwg/s72-c/100_4537.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3079778621548631756</id><published>2010-05-29T19:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T19:53:37.442-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Day in Paradise...St. Thomas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8aHyvHEI/AAAAAAAABQk/Rz9wSQdyWhM/s1600/scan01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8aHyvHEI/AAAAAAAABQk/Rz9wSQdyWhM/s400/scan01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865778813705282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our next stop was in St. Thomas.  The hottest island in the U.S. Virgin Islands.  No, seriously...we melted off the ship to get to that island!  Not thinking about the heat, Steve got off the ship in a dark T-shirt.  After about 10 minutes of that, we began our search for a lighter color shirt for him to keep off a little bit of heat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8Z1oL4nI/AAAAAAAABQc/XNJFIvxnYHw/s1600/100_4520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8Z1oL4nI/AAAAAAAABQc/XNJFIvxnYHw/s400/100_4520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865773937615474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After shopping with Alan and Manda most of the morning, we had to split off for our various excursions, but not without taking in a little bit of the local wildlife.  Steve wandered right up to this giant iguana, thinking it was some sort of statue, but when it moved, it scared the crud right out of poor Steve-O.  I seriously can't remember the last time I have seen Steve move so fast or jump so high, and he got no sympathy from us...we were laughing too hard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8ZdYqqKI/AAAAAAAABQU/rdNkiwT2B_Y/s1600/100_4521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8ZdYqqKI/AAAAAAAABQU/rdNkiwT2B_Y/s400/100_4521.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865767430072482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8Y5nCJFI/AAAAAAAABQM/J06v5iieUjs/s1600/100_4522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8Y5nCJFI/AAAAAAAABQM/J06v5iieUjs/s400/100_4522.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865757826655314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After our "iguana encounter" we stumbled upon this funny little photo spot.  It was almost like you stepped into a box to have your picture taken.  The sea creatures certainly aren't realistic (I don't even know if that's the look they were going for) but it turned out to be one of my favorite pictures of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG78tDoPJI/AAAAAAAABQE/hmsN88vEjIQ/s1600/100_4526.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG78tDoPJI/AAAAAAAABQE/hmsN88vEjIQ/s400/100_4526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865273420594322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Alan and Amanda went off to their excursion of the Coral Gardens, while Steve and I met Kirk and Teresa for the "BOSS" adventure!  This really was the primary reason we went on this cruise.  Steve and I had gotten hooked on the Travel Channel and found this great excursion and honestly based our cruise choice on which ship would take us there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG78IVD1WI/AAAAAAAABP8/iUj8KJkyzaI/s1600/100_4528.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG78IVD1WI/AAAAAAAABP8/iUj8KJkyzaI/s400/100_4528.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865263561594210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(the view from our little boat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG77rYKElI/AAAAAAAABP0/CXe38rSfMcg/s1600/100_4662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 392px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG77rYKElI/AAAAAAAABP0/CXe38rSfMcg/s400/100_4662.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865255789957714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We boarded a small charter boat that would take us to the small island where we were going to go underwater.  While on the boat, I was chosen to be the "model" on how to use the scooter.  BOSS (Breathing Observation Submersible Scooter) is basically a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jet ski&lt;/span&gt; with a bubble on it that is pumped full of oxygen for you to put your head in.  It works like turning a bowl upside down and putting it underwater...some physics law that I don't understand will not fill the bowl full of water.  We were divided into 4 groups, and ours went first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG77YmhsqI/AAAAAAAABPs/VB8aeyCQmrI/s1600/Collage25.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG77YmhsqI/AAAAAAAABPs/VB8aeyCQmrI/s400/Collage25.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865250749952674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was truly amazing!!  You only freak out for a minute before your brain tells your body that you can still breathe, even though you are underwater.  Trained scuba divers took us down and we were to follow them around.  The first thing we saw was a stingray!!  So awesome!!  We got down about 8 feet and puttered around after the divers for about 20 minutes.  The divers had a bottle full of food for the fish that they would squeeze and fish would swarm you!  They would swim so close to you that they sometimes brushed against you, which really freaked me out!  But at least our diver got some great shots of Steve and I in our BOSS helmets.  I'm the one with the fish tail right over my face, and Steve is hiding right behind that striped fish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG76-yR8QI/AAAAAAAABPk/CSykUqkrfes/s1600/snorkel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG76-yR8QI/AAAAAAAABPk/CSykUqkrfes/s400/snorkel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476865243819929858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I thought I would be so disappointed when our turn on the scooters was over, but we had the next hour or so to snorkel while the rest of our group went on the scooters.  I think we preferred snorkeling over the scooters.  It was so relaxing to just float in the ocean, watching the fish swim and hear nothing but your own breathing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG7SRA6AII/AAAAAAAABPc/aLEUc47RcgQ/s1600/0426-pict0376_2_resize.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG7SRA6AII/AAAAAAAABPc/aLEUc47RcgQ/s400/0426-pict0376_2_resize.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476864544338477186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had been told that we "had" to ride the tram up to Paradise Point.  Unfortunately, none of our friends wanted to join us.  So, Steve and I took the ride and loved it!  The scenery was amazing...especially once you got to the top.  There was a great little bar up there where we ordered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pina&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Coladas&lt;/span&gt; and the best beer battered cheese fries we have ever had. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG7SDWkOGI/AAAAAAAABPU/jYDwa29wK-o/s1600/charlotte-amalie-harbor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG7SDWkOGI/AAAAAAAABPU/jYDwa29wK-o/s400/charlotte-amalie-harbor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476864540671228002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tonight was the one night we were sorry that we had booked early dining.  Our meal was served at 6pm and we didn't get back on the ship until almost 7.  But of course, only an idiot would go hungry on a cruise!  It gave Steve and Alan a chance to try out the sushi bar before we headed to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Panini&lt;/span&gt; Grill on the back of the ship.  We turned in early tonight...the combination of sun and water wore us right out.  But we enjoyed the perfect end to a perfect day...Room Service...grilled cheese, PB&amp;amp;J's and cookies &amp;amp; milk on the balcony. &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/2839229465856949694-3079778621548631756?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3079778621548631756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3079778621548631756' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3079778621548631756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3079778621548631756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/05/another-day-in-paradisest-thomas.html' title='Another Day in Paradise...St. Thomas'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/TAG8aHyvHEI/AAAAAAAABQk/Rz9wSQdyWhM/s72-c/scan01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2362417258836391810</id><published>2010-05-24T18:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T19:16:00.414-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nassau, Bahamas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdzq4RwsI/AAAAAAAABPM/MfOYyc8SHv0/s1600/100_4498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdzq4RwsI/AAAAAAAABPM/MfOYyc8SHv0/s400/100_4498.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475002545519837890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our first stop was in Nassau, Bahamas.  Unfortunately, we were only scheduled to be there for 5 hours.  This worked out for me, because I woke up that morning sick as could be!  But I had been looking forward to cruising for 10 months, and dang it, I was going to the Bahamas!!  So, doped up on Tylenol, we headed off the ship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdzLLSe3I/AAAAAAAABPE/xpNuqP74JSg/s1600/100_4506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdzLLSe3I/AAAAAAAABPE/xpNuqP74JSg/s400/100_4506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475002537009642354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It had been advertised that we were traveling on Carnival's largest "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;megaliner&lt;/span&gt;".  But when we pulled up next to Royal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Caribbean's&lt;/span&gt; Oasis of the Seas, we felt like we were sailing on a dingy!  Now, THAT is one massive ship!  The good news for us was, in talking to some of the people on it, they said it was TOO big and they would never sail on it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdh48YG_I/AAAAAAAABO8/gC503Y1wH_k/s1600/100_4500.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdh48YG_I/AAAAAAAABO8/gC503Y1wH_k/s400/100_4500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475002240057482226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our first stop was a recommendation from our new friend, Karla, from the wing place in Orlando.  She told us for $10 we HAD to go on a horse and buggy tour.  They loaded us all into one little buggy, (I am literally sitting in Amanda's lap here) took a few pictures, and then told us it was illegal to have so many people in a buggy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdhLI8EOI/AAAAAAAABO0/YzlEcwV2c3k/s1600/100_4501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdhLI8EOI/AAAAAAAABO0/YzlEcwV2c3k/s400/100_4501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475002227762139362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, Steve and I got into our own buggy and went away on our tour.  It lasted about 20 minutes, and was kind of fun, we just could barely hear our tour guide.  Any time I would catch something he said, I would have to turn to tell Steve, and then miss the next part.  Probably wouldn't do it again, but I wouldn't say it was a total waste either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdgzxN6qI/AAAAAAAABOs/KGxLm5CyoTs/s1600/bahamas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdgzxN6qI/AAAAAAAABOs/KGxLm5CyoTs/s400/bahamas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475002221488630434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Since we weren't there for long, we didn't book any excursions in Bahamas.  Instead we went to the infamous Straw Market, which is a glorified Tijuana.  They sell everything there from watches and belts, to knock-off designer purses and T-shirts.  Of course, they specialize in "straw items" so we had to barter some cute flip-flop purses for the girls and had them embroider their names on them for us.  We also scored some pretty cool coconut shell turtles and then went off in search of a drug store because by this time, my Tylenol was wearing right off&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!  I remember coming here with my family when I was little and always drinking Bahamas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Goombay&lt;/span&gt; Punch from a can.  When I saw it at the drugstore, we just had to get some!  However, it was not NEARLY as good as I remembered...what I wouldn't have given to trade it for a Diet Coke.  It was like drinking pure corn syrup!  Steve was a trooper and downed the whole can, but I didn't feel well enough to fake it.  Sorry, babe!  We stopped at a little restaurant for some lunch where we ordered Conch Chowder (which Steve really liked) and Bahamian Fried Chicken, which was no different than American fried chicken...just really dry.  At that point, we were ready to call it a day and headed back to the ship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdfwvdRwI/AAAAAAAABOc/2LZK65z5XKk/s1600/100_4508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdfwvdRwI/AAAAAAAABOc/2LZK65z5XKk/s400/100_4508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475002203496072962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nassau, Bahamas is known for its Atlantis Resort.  It is a huge beach resort with fancy aquariums and water parks, but just to walk through was over $100 per person.  So we passed on that, but stopped for one quick photo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the rest of the day was a blur for me.  The medication I took made me feel better, but it also knocked me out for the afternoon.  So, while I napped, Steve went wandering the ship and woke me up in time to get ready for our first formal night.  I got all dressed up in my new formal dress that I won on E-Bay, got my hair all curled up, and insisted that we have pictures taken before dinner.  (But, they did NOT turn out cute at all, and for $24 a piece, I was NOT about to bring one home as a souvenir...so just take my word for it...We looked HOT!)  I made it to the table, and wouldn't you know it, it was prime rib and lobster night.  I ordered my prime rib, still not feeling great, and tried to smile while we waited for our food.  Our sweet little Maria, our assistant waitress, came around with the bread basket and that was all it took for me.  I looked at Steve with tears in my eyes, told him I was sorry, and ran for my room.  My formal night ended in my room, with my poor Steve, eating dinner dateless.  He did return and report (later, when it was safe to talk about food) that it was the BEST lobster he had ever had, but even better was the shrimp that came with it.  I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;, but hoped to get better FAST!  So, after a little more Tylenol, we went out to Karaoke and hit the sack pretty early, glad there was a sea day ahead of us to give me some time to rest!&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/2839229465856949694-2362417258836391810?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2362417258836391810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2362417258836391810' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2362417258836391810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2362417258836391810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/05/nassau-bahamas.html' title='Nassau, Bahamas'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_sdzq4RwsI/AAAAAAAABPM/MfOYyc8SHv0/s72-c/100_4498.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4682602007249145717</id><published>2010-05-17T17:50:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T18:33:25.862-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A week on "The Dream"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Hcd---IzI/AAAAAAAABNY/1cZjf8ptvu0/s1600/carnival_dream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 87px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Hcd---IzI/AAAAAAAABNY/1cZjf8ptvu0/s400/carnival_dream.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472397429913297714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I will never forget the squealing reaction from our rented Grand Marquis as we caught our first glimpse of the Dream.  Even from far away, the ship was massive!!  It is the newest in the Carnival fleet, taking it's first sailing in September last year.  Steve and Alan dropped us off with our luggage while they went to return our "pimp wagon".  I'm sure it wasn't long, but the anticipation to get on the ship seemed like they were gone forever! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcVE8Aw-I/AAAAAAAABNQ/YEBnRO8uXBg/s1600/100_4481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcVE8Aw-I/AAAAAAAABNQ/YEBnRO8uXBg/s400/100_4481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472397276892677090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was our 3rd cruise and Steve and I have never stayed in a room with a balcony.  This ship offered something new...no other ship on the water has it...it was called a Cove Balcony.  We figured we would try it out since we wouldn't really know the difference.  They sell these rooms for substantially less than the other balcony rooms, saying that they are more enclosed.  We fell in love with it the second we walked in.  (I think our friends did too!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcUmcWkvI/AAAAAAAABNI/U7pcH9GCotg/s1600/100_4489.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcUmcWkvI/AAAAAAAABNI/U7pcH9GCotg/s400/100_4489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472397268706824946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The room was absolutely perfect.  We loved to sit out on the balcony and watch the waves crash into the ship.  There were many nights we just listened to the sound of the waves.  We LOVED being close to the water instead of up on the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; floor in the "more premium" balconies.  We met our neighbors as we set sail.  A cute little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spanish&lt;/span&gt;, salsa-dancing, couple from LA.  We never learned their names, but if they heard us come out, they would pop their heads over to say hello.  We met our room steward, Johnnie, right away since there were no electrical plugs near the bed for Steve's C-PAP machine.  Luckily, he loaned us an extension cord, otherwise it would have been a VERY, LONG week! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcUJWZA5I/AAAAAAAABNA/zg3L8VvZ6GQ/s1600/100_4487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcUJWZA5I/AAAAAAAABNA/zg3L8VvZ6GQ/s400/100_4487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472397260897190802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We were able to do a "room tour" of the Olsen's balcony room on the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; floor.  Their balcony seemed the same size, but it was enclosed in glass.  You were able to see everyone else on their balconies and it overlooked one of three hot tubs on the 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; floor deck.  We were thrilled with our balcony since it sat just under the lifeboats giving us shade and it was much more private than the ones upstairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcTmNUfxI/AAAAAAAABM4/Uwe_XFgRpz0/s1600/100_4493.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcTmNUfxI/AAAAAAAABM4/Uwe_XFgRpz0/s400/100_4493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472397251463905042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Steve sat out on the balcony early one morning and swore he saw birds diving into the water.  After watching them for a while, he remembered how far we were from land and realized there was no possible way there would be birds clear out here.  He took a second look and found they were not birds, but flying fish!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcSzbwOKI/AAAAAAAABMw/AZd_rMjJXps/s1600/cruise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_HcSzbwOKI/AAAAAAAABMw/AZd_rMjJXps/s400/cruise.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472397237834234018" 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/2839229465856949694-4682602007249145717?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4682602007249145717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4682602007249145717' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4682602007249145717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4682602007249145717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/05/week-on-dream.html' title='A week on &quot;The Dream&quot;'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Hcd---IzI/AAAAAAAABNY/1cZjf8ptvu0/s72-c/carnival_dream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6680745480602282190</id><published>2010-05-17T14:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T18:39:44.508-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Islands of Adventure!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_GmHs8qqvI/AAAAAAAABLQ/QX-lDyK-0lo/s1600/100_4477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_GmHs8qqvI/AAAAAAAABLQ/QX-lDyK-0lo/s400/100_4477.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472337673486772978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;About a year ago, Steve and I decided to celebrate our 10-year anniversary in a BIG way.  We planned a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Caribbean&lt;/span&gt; cruise! We had gone on a cruise for our honeymoon and couldn't wait to go again.  We invited all our friends to join us, but ended up with 3 couples.  Our good friends, Alan and Amanda Andersen joined us along with our neighbors, Kirk and Teresa Olsen.  We decided to make the most of our very expensive airfare and spend a little time in Orlando before we got on the ship.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Olsens&lt;/span&gt; chose to see Kennedy Space Center, while &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Andersens&lt;/span&gt; came with us to Islands of Adventure and Universal Studios.  We had an absolute blast!  We did get a little homesick for the kids when we met Popeye and Olive Oil (the girls' new favorite show) but it is more of an adult themed park, so all in all it was so great to not have kids with us!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl7fQf28I/AAAAAAAABLI/z3HwVfSyooE/s1600/100_4476.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl7fQf28I/AAAAAAAABLI/z3HwVfSyooE/s400/100_4476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472337463653424066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A big part of the park was themed after Marvel Comic Heroes.  Not being a big comic fan, I didn't know most of them, but they had a small parade a few times a day when all the heroes came out on 4 wheelers and then went off in separate areas for pictures and autographs.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Spidey&lt;/span&gt; was the only one I knew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl7JO4ynI/AAAAAAAABLA/X8xtgRGwgbo/s1600/PG_v_thumb_2_tcm13-4772.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl7JO4ynI/AAAAAAAABLA/X8xtgRGwgbo/s400/PG_v_thumb_2_tcm13-4772.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472337457741089394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This park has some of the best rides of all time!  Dudley-Do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Right's&lt;/span&gt; Rip Saw Falls was just as fun as we remembered.  It is a log ride on speed!!  There isn't just one drop where you get soaked...there are about 10!  And there are waterfalls everywhere, so by the time you get off, you are completely drenched!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl6_FdPUI/AAAAAAAABK4/ttbo-LSwovE/s1600/PG_v_thumb_1_tcm13-4607.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl6_FdPUI/AAAAAAAABK4/ttbo-LSwovE/s400/PG_v_thumb_1_tcm13-4607.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472337455017180482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Incredible Hulk is just that...INCREDIBLE!!  This one was one of our favorites on our trip here 10 years ago.  They shoot you out of a dark tunnel at 60 miles an hour right into a barrel roll!  It is no surprise that you reach the end completely out of breath, but so worth it!  (If you still have your wallet and sunglasses in your pocket!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl6cwKYgI/AAAAAAAABKw/1eiIaYY8K0Y/s1600/PG_v_thumb_1_tcm13-4416.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 259px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl6cwKYgI/AAAAAAAABKw/1eiIaYY8K0Y/s400/PG_v_thumb_1_tcm13-4416.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472337445801058818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Popeye &amp;amp; Bluto's Bilge-Rat Barges was a new one to us this trip.  When we went before it was shut down for repairs.  Once we were soaked from Dudley-Do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Right's&lt;/span&gt;, we decided we might as well get all the wet rides out of the way.  I thought you got wet at Rattlesnake Rapids at Lagoon???  That was NOTHING compared to how soaked we got on this ride.  It was hilarious though.  We wrung our clothes out most of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl6LPgrYI/AAAAAAAABKo/IQo2btJPaOg/s1600/PG_h_thumb_3_tcm13-4617.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_Gl6LPgrYI/AAAAAAAABKo/IQo2btJPaOg/s400/PG_h_thumb_3_tcm13-4617.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472337441100705154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And I think my all time favorite ride at the park is still The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man.  It is an interactive 3-D ride where you get caught up in a battle between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Spidey&lt;/span&gt; and all his comic-book &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;villains&lt;/span&gt;.  The graphics are amazing and the ride is totally worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hours were cut short at the park that day due to some high school graduation bash, but I think we were pretty much ready to be done anyway.  By the time we left, my socks were still wet inside my shoes and I was definitely ready to sit for a while!  We headed back to our hotel for a while and then went off in search of some dinner.  When we are out of town, Steve and I like to eat in places we can't get here.  Sometimes we miss and wish we were at an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Applebee's&lt;/span&gt; instead of the dives we find, but this time we totally scored.  There were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;billboards&lt;/span&gt; for Hooter's everywhere, so the guys kept joking that they wanted wings.  Manda and I called their bluff and agreed!  No we didn't end up at Hooter's, instead we found a true hole in the wall called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Flyers&lt;/span&gt;.  I will admit now, I was nervous walking in to the place.  And after talking to the waitress I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;afraid&lt;/span&gt; to walk out.  She told us it was NOT a good neighborhood and to be very careful walking to our car.  She lived 2 blocks away and refused to walk to work it was that bad.  However, the wings were AWESOME!!  I think the best wings we have ever eaten.  It's sad that there is only one and it has been weeks since we've eaten there yet we are still talking about it!  She was able to give us some great tips and advice for our cruise and what to do and what not to do on the islands, which was very helpful.  After dinner, we headed back to our hotel to try and get some sleep before we got on the ship the next day!!!  So excited!&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/2839229465856949694-6680745480602282190?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6680745480602282190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6680745480602282190' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6680745480602282190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6680745480602282190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/05/islands-of-adventure.html' title='Islands of Adventure!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S_GmHs8qqvI/AAAAAAAABLQ/QX-lDyK-0lo/s72-c/100_4477.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2767292224803922155</id><published>2010-05-06T18:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T18:47:48.266-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Little "Bo" Peep?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NiAs4UtpI/AAAAAAAABKg/YVLyRxEBvRk/s1600/100_4428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NiAs4UtpI/AAAAAAAABKg/YVLyRxEBvRk/s400/100_4428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468322136744834706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I really hate stupid people!  I hate stupid people who make comments about my little boy looking like a "hippie" with his beautiful long curls or strangers who insist he is a girl.  Surely no one in their right mind dresses their little girls in dinosaurs and skeleton bones??  And if one of my "daughters" had hair like this, don't you think I would doll her up in ribbons and bows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh_VjNqbI/AAAAAAAABKY/8T5NHWZBUs4/s1600/100_4423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh_VjNqbI/AAAAAAAABKY/8T5NHWZBUs4/s400/100_4423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468322113302407602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I finally had enough.  It nearly broke my heart, but my little boy could no longer be mistaken for a baby sister.  It was time for his first hair cut!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh-Y_Dg0I/AAAAAAAABKQ/4WlwFmyh8-4/s1600/100_4437.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh-Y_Dg0I/AAAAAAAABKQ/4WlwFmyh8-4/s400/100_4437.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468322097044620098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh9vOMUOI/AAAAAAAABKI/uTQt0p8cnsQ/s1600/100_4443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh9vOMUOI/AAAAAAAABKI/uTQt0p8cnsQ/s400/100_4443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468322085833822434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I gave my hairdresser, CoriAnn, specific instructions.  Less bang, a little shorter, but still shaggy.  (That's in, right?)  Luckily, she knew just what to do and he did great!!  Most of all, he still looks like my sweet Bode...just a little more "boyish".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh8U5RrVI/AAAAAAAABKA/j1bcV4SSUwI/s1600/Collage23.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-Nh8U5RrVI/AAAAAAAABKA/j1bcV4SSUwI/s400/Collage23.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468322061586902354" 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/2839229465856949694-2767292224803922155?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2767292224803922155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2767292224803922155' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2767292224803922155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2767292224803922155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/05/little-bo-peep.html' title='Little &quot;Bo&quot; Peep?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NiAs4UtpI/AAAAAAAABKg/YVLyRxEBvRk/s72-c/100_4428.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3530870102419573982</id><published>2010-05-06T18:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T18:37:44.018-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NescEhriI/AAAAAAAABJ4/SStF-DDF16g/s1600/Collage24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NescEhriI/AAAAAAAABJ4/SStF-DDF16g/s400/Collage24.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468318490100346402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Easter was definitely a different day this year.  Surprisingly, it fell on the same day as General Conference.  We started a tradition with the Vincent family to get together on Conference Sunday for breakfast, but changed it up a little this year. Instead of the traditional "Ziploc omelets" I made Grandma Terry's Ham and Cheese Croissaints.   I actually think they were a bigger hit than the omelets!  We rushed off for Conference and breakfast in our jammies to Aunt Valerie's house and came back much later in the afternoon for our egg hunt.  No surprise, it was freezing, so luckily it didn't last too long!  Of course the girls cried over who got the most eggs, while Bode was content to listen to the rattle of just one and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out how to get the candy out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NerVy8dwI/AAAAAAAABJw/z69OGygM6Nc/s1600/100_4410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NerVy8dwI/AAAAAAAABJw/z69OGygM6Nc/s400/100_4410.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468318471236122370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No pictures of it, of course...but a funny Easter memory for this year.  Bode has developed an obsession for Elmo!  The girls never really cared for Sesame Street, but I guess Elmo is the male version of Dora since that was their big thing.  So, the Easter bunny brought Bode a stuffed Elmo in his Easter basket (along with the Cadbury creme eggs seen here...a BIG HIT with the boy!!)  As expected, Bode picked up and started walking just a few days before Easter.  He was so thrilled with his Elmo that he refused to loosen his grip on the little red monster when he lost his footing and completely FACEPLANTED into the carpet.  I tried (really hard) to hold back my motherly gasp and waited for the wail.  Instead, he sat up, checked out Elmo and looked up to Steve and I with his big hazel eyes and said, "WOAH!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-3530870102419573982?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3530870102419573982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3530870102419573982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3530870102419573982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3530870102419573982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/05/easter.html' title='Easter!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S-NescEhriI/AAAAAAAABJ4/SStF-DDF16g/s72-c/Collage24.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-240359040309025736</id><published>2010-03-15T13:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T14:06:08.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not to be left out...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S56Q_my2NDI/AAAAAAAABJI/kL4JtakWbZo/s1600-h/Collage22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448952021584852018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S56Q_my2NDI/AAAAAAAABJI/kL4JtakWbZo/s400/Collage22.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;CLAIRE HAS A TWIN TOO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I guess it worked out perfectly fitting to name my Linda Claire after my sweet mother, since she turned out to be another Linda Palmer clone.  I've been told all my life that I look just like my mom.  In my early years I hated it...I don't know why, I guess I just wanted to be original.  But now that I'm older, I LOVE people to tell me how much I am like her, and not just in looks.  Now I have my little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Clairey&lt;/span&gt;-Boo to carry it on.  From the day she was born, I knew she had come straight from her Grandma Linda's arms and brought a piece of her with her.  She looked just like her!  When we helped my dad clean out the house before he moved, I found this little red and white polka dotted outfit that I remembered from pictures of myself.  Of course I snagged it, wanting to take pictures of Claire in it to compare the two.  I took the pictures, but never did anything with it...probably because Steve told me our baby looked like I had wrapped her in a loofah!!  But now that I put the two together...HOLY &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;TWINNERS&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-240359040309025736?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/240359040309025736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=240359040309025736' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/240359040309025736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/240359040309025736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/03/not-to-be-left-out.html' title='Not to be left out...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S56Q_my2NDI/AAAAAAAABJI/kL4JtakWbZo/s72-c/Collage22.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1635426174551739330</id><published>2010-03-04T13:36:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T13:40:26.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look-alikes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S5AaA-53w_I/AAAAAAAABI4/It2U5lKRA0E/s1600-h/Collage20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444880553678980082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S5AaA-53w_I/AAAAAAAABI4/It2U5lKRA0E/s400/Collage20.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In talking with my sister-in-law recently, she noted how much she thought Bode looked like how she remembered Steve as a baby.  I had been thinking Bode was a baby boy twinner of Paige's and since she is a clone of her daddy, I guess it all comes full circle.  So, compare for yourself...Daddy is the larger photo on the left with Paige in the lavender on the top right and Bode in the navy on the lower right.  All babies are around 6 months.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1635426174551739330?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1635426174551739330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1635426174551739330' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1635426174551739330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1635426174551739330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/03/look-alikes.html' title='Look-alikes'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S5AaA-53w_I/AAAAAAAABI4/It2U5lKRA0E/s72-c/Collage20.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-9028060007654871237</id><published>2010-02-28T18:24:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T18:42:04.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FIVE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX4FpvODI/AAAAAAAABIw/OGl72wzZVbM/s1600-h/feb10+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443470826964727858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX4FpvODI/AAAAAAAABIw/OGl72wzZVbM/s400/feb10+019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's hard for me to believe that my baby girl is now 5 years old. Where does the time go?? She started counting down to her birthday around Christmas time, and was anxiously awaiting the day. She got to celebrate at preschool...but due to lack of planning ahead, I forgot to send birthday treats. So instead, Paige, Bode and I waited outside Miss Kathy's house with 10 purple Happy Birthday balloons for all of her friends. She was surprised...and THRILLED!! Especially since there were 2 friends absent from her class that day, so she got to take 3 balloons home. We took her to dinner that night at the Training Table, her choice (have I got her trained well or what??) But it still killed her to wait until Friday when... &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX3sjOxtI/AAAAAAAABIo/6ZpBkjWYvWQ/s1600-h/feb10+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443470820226549458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX3sjOxtI/AAAAAAAABIo/6ZpBkjWYvWQ/s400/feb10+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; WE GOT TO GO TO CHUCK E. CHEESE!!! Claire has planned this birthday party since we went there 2 years ago for a cousin's party. She was dying to ride the clock and win a prize. I really was ANTI, but with a winter birthday, your options are limited.  I loved the idea of not having a dozen 5 year-olds destroy my house, but did not love the idea of eating cardboard pizza for a hundred bucks.  She didn't seem to notice that mom didn't pop for the "Birthday package", which meant we didn't have a happy birthday tablecloth or a balloon. She did want the token crown, but seemed to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;satisfied&lt;/span&gt; by the light up tiara I had brought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX3Bj4QyI/AAAAAAAABIg/9fR0aXtTwXg/s1600-h/feb10+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443470808686543650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX3Bj4QyI/AAAAAAAABIg/9fR0aXtTwXg/s400/feb10+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Claire had such a great time playing with her friends and opening presents. It seemed like the perfect party...everyone had fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX28kcvLI/AAAAAAAABIY/KOcUmjXEnoQ/s1600-h/feb10+030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443470807346756786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX28kcvLI/AAAAAAAABIY/KOcUmjXEnoQ/s400/feb10+030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There was a little drama over the cupcakes. She really wanted a princess cake from Costco, but mom really wanted cupcakes since they were easier. We went to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; and poured over the design book for about half an hour. When we went to put in our order, the kid told me I had to give them exactly 24 hours notice...not 21 like I had. So I took a sad and dejected little Boo elsewhere. Luckily, Sam's Club had Valentine cupcakes up the wazoo and everyone got a ring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX2YdZLhI/AAAAAAAABIQ/oSCBQ3d8ctQ/s1600-h/feb10+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443470797653487122" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX2YdZLhI/AAAAAAAABIQ/oSCBQ3d8ctQ/s400/feb10+023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The party went on to Sunday where we had raspberry delight ice cream at Grandpa and Grandma's house and even more presents!! Claire was very disappointed the following Monday morning when she woke up asking, "What are we going to do for my birthday today?" Apparently birthdays are now &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;birthweeks&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-9028060007654871237?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/9028060007654871237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=9028060007654871237' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/9028060007654871237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/9028060007654871237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/02/five.html' title='FIVE!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S4sX4FpvODI/AAAAAAAABIw/OGl72wzZVbM/s72-c/feb10+019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2053307910725714467</id><published>2010-01-30T16:40:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T16:58:21.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little more mobile...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEhplQ8ZI/AAAAAAAABII/GISi6Z0rHGo/s1600-h/jan10+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432683132892541330" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEhplQ8ZI/AAAAAAAABII/GISi6Z0rHGo/s400/jan10+016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently, Vincents only make stubborn children...I'm sure they don't get it from their mother.  They do things in their own time, when they want.  All our children have been late bloomers as far as baby milestones are concerned.  Paige had a decent excuse (you'd be late walking too if your legs were covered in plaster!)  But Claire and Bode are no exception, I guess.  So it comes as no surprise that at 15 months, Bode is still not walking.  He is perfectly content to crawl around the floor.  So for Christmas, Santa brought Bode a little ride-along walker toy to encourage a little more mobility. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEg1lHKqI/AAAAAAAABIA/HFq63hV7vRM/s1600-h/jan10+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432683118933256866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEg1lHKqI/AAAAAAAABIA/HFq63hV7vRM/s400/jan10+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It took him a few days to get the hang of it...but he has really got it down!  He runs this thing from one end of the house to the other, usually with two giggly little shadows following after him.  &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEgql0K5I/AAAAAAAABH4/5TXBmm8J0_c/s1600-h/jan10+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432683115983416210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEgql0K5I/AAAAAAAABH4/5TXBmm8J0_c/s400/jan10+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He can get it going so fast, that it was hard to capture a decent picture of him doing it!  But at least he looks like he is having fun!  He particularly enjoys doing laps around the kitchen table and the island.  &lt;em&gt;Notice his proud big sister cheering him on!  So cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEgAVrTnI/AAAAAAAABHw/odTjp6T7nz8/s1600-h/jan10+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432683104641437298" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEgAVrTnI/AAAAAAAABHw/odTjp6T7nz8/s400/jan10+013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Note: He has also mastered pushing the baby doll stroller.  No, this does not mean he will grow up with "issues".  It means he is going to be a good daddy someday...when he's 40 and I finally decide to let my baby boy out of the house.  On second thought...maybe he'll just be a really great uncle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEfn4jTWI/AAAAAAAABHo/qewI-8a5ARw/s1600-h/jan10+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432683098076826978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEfn4jTWI/AAAAAAAABHo/qewI-8a5ARw/s400/jan10+017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Such a proud, though kind of goofy, little smile! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;P.S. Just yesterday, Bode made a little bit more progress.  He stood by himself in the middle of the floor!  Just long enough to clap for himself and everyone to scream and yell, but still...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2053307910725714467?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2053307910725714467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2053307910725714467' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2053307910725714467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2053307910725714467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/01/little-more-mobile.html' title='A little more mobile...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S2TEhplQ8ZI/AAAAAAAABII/GISi6Z0rHGo/s72-c/jan10+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1782919471029015463</id><published>2010-01-16T15:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T15:39:57.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;WOW!! It's hard to believe that Christmas was already almost a month ago! It seems like December was such a whirlwind, it has taken this long to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;recoop&lt;/span&gt;! I think the most exhausting part was Bode. He caught a horrible cold the first of the month and 3 doctors visits, 2 prescriptions and a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nebulizer&lt;/span&gt; later it had turned from cold, to strep, to ear infection, to secondary pneumonia! He and I spent a good chunk of Dec. 23rd with Dr. Lash trying to figure out why he was so sick and what we could do to make it better! Luckily, we had caught it in time where his oxygen level was way down, but not low enough to be hospitalized...so Bode got to spend Christmas at home! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We spent our Christmas Eve with the Vincent family, in between &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nebulizer&lt;/span&gt; treatments. Paige, Claire and our cousin Katherine were all so excited to check out &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;NoradSanta&lt;/span&gt; and see how close he was getting. Claire was ready to leave and go home to bed the second we got there, he was so afraid we would miss him! Of course, we ended up staying later than we planned...and then by the time we each opened Christmas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt;, this is what Paige left for Santa. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4ms2ZEuI/AAAAAAAABHY/pK8l7rECNmA/s1600-h/dec09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427462738460349154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4ms2ZEuI/AAAAAAAABHY/pK8l7rECNmA/s400/dec09+001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He absolutely LOVED it! We know because this Christmas, &lt;strong&gt;Steve and I got to meet Santa&lt;/strong&gt;! It was the most magical Christmas we have ever had! All 5 of us got in our new &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; and snuggled up in our bed to watch Christmas Story for a little bit and we all fell asleep. I felt a tap on my shoulder and awoke to find Santa standing next to me! Steve woke up to the sound of a man's voice in the bedroom (kind of gives a guy a panic attack, you know!) He asked us to follow him into the girls' bedroom. We went in to find a partially made &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bunkbed&lt;/span&gt;. Santa explained to us that the elves had packed the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bunkbed&lt;/span&gt; so well in the boxes for transport that it took him longer than expected to unpack and assemble. Santa knew our girls had been so good this year and deserved this extra special present they had asked for. But Santa needed to move on to our neighbors, so he asked if Steve and I could finish up for him. We were glad to help. I think Santa's happy "Ho, Ho, Ho's" and jingle bells must have been a little too jovial, because as I was bringing flannel sheets from the basement where Santa had left them by the fireplace, I saw Paige walking out of our room and right across the hall into hers! You should have seen the shock on her face!! It was priceless!! She had asked for the bunk bed, but never in her wildest dreams actually thought they would get it. She knew just how anti-bunk bed her mama is!! I quickly told her how we met Santa, so she and I hurried to check out all the windows to check all the neighbors roofs' while daddy finished putting the final touches on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bunkbed&lt;/span&gt;. But that Santa is pretty quick, we could not see him anywhere! Paige was a great help making beds and wanted so badly to wake up Claire to tell her Santa had come and brought them just what they wanted. But we knew she needed her sleep. So we snuggled the girls in their own separate beds and got a little sleep before morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4mSZFbUI/AAAAAAAABHQ/RHn8FsDQe88/s1600-h/dec09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427462731358104898" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4mSZFbUI/AAAAAAAABHQ/RHn8FsDQe88/s400/dec09+006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We ended up waking Claire up around 8:30 so that we could catch her reaction on video. She opened her eyes, looked up at the bunk bed, and hopped out yelling, "Yes...I knew it!!" Unfortunately, our little "booger boy" didn't wake up quite so bright eyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4lwcd8xI/AAAAAAAABHI/EkghPDaqGTI/s1600-h/dec09+055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427462722245489426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4lwcd8xI/AAAAAAAABHI/EkghPDaqGTI/s400/dec09+055.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The kids had a great morning. No fighting, taking turns opening gifts...it was a wonderful morning. Even Bode got into opening gifts this year. Although we knew that &lt;strong&gt;long&lt;/strong&gt; before Christmas. For some reason he was drawn to the present under the tree to Paige from Mom and Dad...he opened it 3 or 4 times before Christmas Day. Paige was really sweet about it though, she even re-wrapped it herself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4lT4yMJI/AAAAAAAABHA/ni4a3Ypo3Mo/s1600-h/dec09+035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427462714579628178" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4lT4yMJI/AAAAAAAABHA/ni4a3Ypo3Mo/s400/dec09+035.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The girls looked so darling in their Christmas "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;zippies&lt;/span&gt;" and I absolutely LOVED the gingerbread man applique on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bode's&lt;/span&gt; cute little bum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I34weytVI/AAAAAAAABG4/XQ6ffoUwyN8/s1600-h/dec09+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427461949161125202" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I34weytVI/AAAAAAAABG4/XQ6ffoUwyN8/s400/dec09+043.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One of Claire's favorite gifts was the Lil' Kins kitty that Paige picked out for Claire by herself. She has not let it go, and named her Whiskers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I34bbnRvI/AAAAAAAABGw/qfLLriimFwo/s1600-h/dec09+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427461943510648562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I34bbnRvI/AAAAAAAABGw/qfLLriimFwo/s400/dec09+027.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bode was thrilled with his roller coaster toy. It even entertains his big sisters for a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I34Pq2yzI/AAAAAAAABGo/rh191nXeV3M/s1600-h/dec09+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427461940353354546" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I34Pq2yzI/AAAAAAAABGo/rh191nXeV3M/s400/dec09+037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige was dying for her very own sewing machine. She is becoming quite the domestic diva!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I33kB0H1I/AAAAAAAABGg/bqBzbQL2jUo/s1600-h/dec09+030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427461928638488402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I33kB0H1I/AAAAAAAABGg/bqBzbQL2jUo/s400/dec09+030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Poor little Bode was such a good sport through the whole morning. You can tell just by looking back at the pictures just how awful he felt, but was still finally able to squeak out a few little smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I33ETsRLI/AAAAAAAABGY/6tA4i08V8Og/s1600-h/dec09+053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427461920123536562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I33ETsRLI/AAAAAAAABGY/6tA4i08V8Og/s400/dec09+053.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After the festivities were over, I pulled the bubble bun out of the fridge to rise for a little bit while Steve and I snuggled Bode back in our bed to get him back to sleep. It was pretty comfy in there because the next thing we knew, it was 3 hours later! I was shocked that we had napped for that long! I ran to check on the girls, feeling immediate guilt that I slept through Christmas morning, but was relieved to find the 2 of them with all their new Christmas Barbies and Littlest Pet Shop happily playing on the top bunk! The only real drawback was when I got to the kitchen and found the bubble bun had more than doubled...there were butterscotch covered rolls over the top of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bundt&lt;/span&gt; pan, across the stove, down the front of the oven and onto the floor. So, although Christmas breakfast was kind of a bust, I think the rest of the day more than made up for it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1782919471029015463?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1782919471029015463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1782919471029015463' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1782919471029015463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1782919471029015463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-2009.html' title='Christmas 2009'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S1I4ms2ZEuI/AAAAAAAABHY/pK8l7rECNmA/s72-c/dec09+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-690976843431949455</id><published>2010-01-05T16:14:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T16:44:58.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Claire's Christmas Program</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIYSt2djI/AAAAAAAABGQ/tOMEOJdjBHA/s1600-h/dec09+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423398695950775858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIYSt2djI/AAAAAAAABGQ/tOMEOJdjBHA/s400/dec09+057.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On Claire's last day of preschool in December, she had her Christmas program.   It was absolutely darling!  Steve and I loved every minute of it!   We were so proud of our little Boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIYJQM1oI/AAAAAAAABGI/Wj2mSZMBWBY/s1600-h/dec09+061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423398693410494082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIYJQM1oI/AAAAAAAABGI/Wj2mSZMBWBY/s400/dec09+061.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She and her cute little class of 10 sang several numbers, each with props and actions. &lt;br /&gt;Our personal favorite:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I took a lick of my peppermint stick&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I thought it tasted yummy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It used to be on my Christmas tree&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I liked it better in my tummy!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIXhUAvcI/AAAAAAAABGA/CIsw4YVjI2A/s1600-h/dec09+060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423398682689060290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIXhUAvcI/AAAAAAAABGA/CIsw4YVjI2A/s400/dec09+060.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The class also played a number with chimes, Christmas Bells are Ringing, with each child having a certain note to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIXQ7w8KI/AAAAAAAABF4/wZF3w3fRwJc/s1600-h/dec09+062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423398678292394146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIXQ7w8KI/AAAAAAAABF4/wZF3w3fRwJc/s400/dec09+062.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And of course, no Christmas program would be complete without Rudolph!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Christmas program was just a small taste of what's to come in the Spring...so we can't wait!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-690976843431949455?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/690976843431949455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=690976843431949455' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/690976843431949455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/690976843431949455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/01/claires-christmas-program.html' title='Claire&apos;s Christmas Program'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/S0PIYSt2djI/AAAAAAAABGQ/tOMEOJdjBHA/s72-c/dec09+057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-18727536385352507</id><published>2010-01-01T21:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T21:39:36.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Recital</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7Mm0kDTHI/AAAAAAAABFw/4yoXxpU0cUw/s1600-h/dec09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421995968717606002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7Mm0kDTHI/AAAAAAAABFw/4yoXxpU0cUw/s400/dec09+005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What can I say? I'm a sucker for little girls with curly hair and makeup in dance costumes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dance recitals are 2 days of the year that I really look forward too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7Mmv5ajgI/AAAAAAAABFo/Oa27bEpY2hM/s1600-h/dec09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421995967465033218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7Mmv5ajgI/AAAAAAAABFo/Oa27bEpY2hM/s400/dec09+002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We were so impressed with their performances this year!  We can see so much growth and improvement in their dance skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7MmFP0kGI/AAAAAAAABFg/inj3w7NBp5g/s1600-h/dec09+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421995956016287842" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7MmFP0kGI/AAAAAAAABFg/inj3w7NBp5g/s400/dec09+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Claire's costume included a bright red cowboy hat that I was really nervous would fly off.  But she danced like a star and it stayed right where it was supposed to.  Surprisingly she was not shy at all...happy to share her talent at all family functions the whole month of December and stole the show at the recital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7MlnwdbeI/AAAAAAAABFY/upvmC92iTK0/s1600-h/dec09+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421995948100120034" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7MlnwdbeI/AAAAAAAABFY/upvmC92iTK0/s400/dec09+013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Paige was so excited to have a new friend in her class this year.  Camry was in her kindergarten class last year, but due to boundary changes, she is going to a new elementary this year.  They both really look forward to Tuesday nights so that they have at least an hour a week to see each other.  Both did a great job "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7MlI-ayEI/AAAAAAAABFQ/v1no7eRHN8o/s1600-h/dec09+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421995939837167682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7MlI-ayEI/AAAAAAAABFQ/v1no7eRHN8o/s400/dec09+016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Claire and her little friend, Ali, are excited to be dancing together again this year.  Both little ladies did a darling rendition of "Lasso-ing Santa Claus".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-18727536385352507?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/18727536385352507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=18727536385352507' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/18727536385352507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/18727536385352507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-recital.html' title='Christmas Recital'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sz7Mm0kDTHI/AAAAAAAABFw/4yoXxpU0cUw/s72-c/dec09+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7895397727372095634</id><published>2009-12-14T18:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T18:57:46.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Home!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The much anticipated day has finally arrived!  Last week, my nephew Brady, who is really more like the brother I never had, returned home from his mission in France.  We counted the days for weeks, and once the day came, we started counting hours.  So imagine my surprise to answer a phone call from a "Pay Phone" (I didn't even know those existed anymore) to hear Brady's voice on the other line!  He had a layover in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Cincinnati&lt;/span&gt; and had "a few American coins" and wanted to call someone who wasn't at work.  Thank goodness for working nights!  It was so great to talk to him for a few minutes, and only made me that much more excited to see him!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sybpo7k5kqI/AAAAAAAABFI/6R-FQcW18Tc/s1600-h/dec09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415272491356099234" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sybpo7k5kqI/AAAAAAAABFI/6R-FQcW18Tc/s400/dec09+004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Despite the massive snow storm, he had quite the welcoming committee.  All his cousins, aunts and uncles came out, along with some mission companions and some friends.  The whole baggage claim erupted into excited squeals and tears when we saw him come down the escalator. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SybpoivdUbI/AAAAAAAABFA/R5ydRRaIZrY/s1600-h/dec09+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415272484689498546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SybpoivdUbI/AAAAAAAABFA/R5ydRRaIZrY/s400/dec09+018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; His reunion with his twin sister, Ashley, was so touching and sweet.  We wondered if she really knew what was going on and had made bets on her reaction.  She just clung to him, stepping on her toes to kiss his cheek, and then stepping back to stare at him.  She wouldn't let him out of her sight and didn't let him get far without her on his arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SybpoZhG9LI/AAAAAAAABE4/yDpycCeSi2I/s1600-h/dec09+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415272482213393586" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SybpoZhG9LI/AAAAAAAABE4/yDpycCeSi2I/s400/dec09+019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He brought French chocolate to share with all his little cousins, which was a big hit.  Although I'm not sure he needs the bribe for friendship.  Our whole extended family just loves Brady so much, and all the cousins look up to him and were literally bouncing off the walls to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sybpnz5vygI/AAAAAAAABEw/N0DwbyhF-hU/s1600-h/dec09+036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415272472116185602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sybpnz5vygI/AAAAAAAABEw/N0DwbyhF-hU/s400/dec09+036.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Steve and Brady have always had such a special relationship, he was especially excited to see him.  His coming home brought back many sweet memories of when he returned from his mission in Leeds, England.  So he has been able to reminisce for the past few weeks and share his experiences there with the girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SybpnuXjQsI/AAAAAAAABEo/VOgeCNCezyY/s1600-h/dec09+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415272470630580930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SybpnuXjQsI/AAAAAAAABEo/VOgeCNCezyY/s400/dec09+037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We were most excited for Brady to meet his newest cousin, Bode!  The day Brady flew out to France, he was able to call us from the airport to say goodbye.  We had just found out that we were expecting a baby and Brady was the first person we told.  Like the rest of us, Brady seems to just love him already and I know they'll be the best of friends.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have been able to spend some time with him the past few days.  The girls just can't get enough of him.  He has taught them the French way of kissing both cheeks when you leave, and Paige just eats it right up, while Claire remains a little shy and just gets the giggles.  I was able to share my birthday with him at his homecoming where he did an amazing job speaking.  We are so glad his experience was wonderful and are so excited to have him home.  We love you, Elder Page!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7895397727372095634?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7895397727372095634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7895397727372095634' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7895397727372095634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7895397727372095634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/12/hes-home.html' title='He&apos;s Home!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sybpo7k5kqI/AAAAAAAABFI/6R-FQcW18Tc/s72-c/dec09+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-758437951343637432</id><published>2009-12-09T13:40:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T13:49:13.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes Santa Claus...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;There are definitely perks to having grandparents in assisted living.  Aside from the health and care benefits for them, Legacy House throws some pretty great parties!  Last weekend, Santa and Mrs. Claus made a visit.  They brought breakfast for everyone and were happy to have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;grandbabies&lt;/span&gt; sit on their laps.  It was surprisingly not busy so were able to walk right up and make our Christmas wishes.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALg4z-SOI/AAAAAAAABD4/E0DHt5DzTM4/s1600-h/dec09+042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413339411733432546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALg4z-SOI/AAAAAAAABD4/E0DHt5DzTM4/s400/dec09+042.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige told Santa that she wanted a Nintendo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;DS&lt;/span&gt;.  Mrs. Claus told us that their electronic elves were really busy this year and they would really try to hold one aside, but &lt;em&gt;just in case&lt;/em&gt; they were out (thank you, thank you!!) did she have a back up idea?  She then asked for a sewing machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALgWHH4KI/AAAAAAAABDw/9z8W0K0IB5g/s1600-h/dec09+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413339402418512034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALgWHH4KI/AAAAAAAABDw/9z8W0K0IB5g/s400/dec09+040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Claire wasn't much easier to please.  She promptly asked for a bunk bed.  She promised that she and Paige would take turns sleeping on the top.  And then she would like a "real live toy cat" to sleep with her in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALgNnFZ1I/AAAAAAAABDo/YoVzzJjS8IQ/s1600-h/dec09+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413339400136648530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALgNnFZ1I/AAAAAAAABDo/YoVzzJjS8IQ/s400/dec09+043.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thankfully, Bode was easy.  He whispered to Santa that he wears a size 3 diaper and he likes the baby wipes from Costco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALfrm_dCI/AAAAAAAABDg/bmuj3oTd66A/s1600-h/dec09+044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413339391009453090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALfrm_dCI/AAAAAAAABDg/bmuj3oTd66A/s400/dec09+044.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Merry Christmas!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-758437951343637432?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/758437951343637432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=758437951343637432' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/758437951343637432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/758437951343637432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/12/here-comes-santa-claus.html' title='Here comes Santa Claus...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SyALg4z-SOI/AAAAAAAABD4/E0DHt5DzTM4/s72-c/dec09+042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7186861683807053495</id><published>2009-12-01T14:55:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T15:18:11.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thanksgiving is always one of my favorite holidays.  I love getting all dressed up in new outfits, heading to Little America where we eat our hearts out and leave the mess.  This year was a little different with a smaller group.  Dean and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kendyl&lt;/span&gt; were headed to San Diego for...you guessed it...SOCCER!  And Terry was hosting dinner at her house for all her kids.  We were able to sit in the Idaho Room that we like, and were seated in a perfect spot with a hideaway corner for the kids to play when they were bored of food.  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWSChdXcuI/AAAAAAAABC8/BiKViGfMkF4/s1600/nov09+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410391099394454242" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWSChdXcuI/AAAAAAAABC8/BiKViGfMkF4/s400/nov09+012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; From the looks of it, Bode got bored with the food rather quickly.  He was actually really good, I think he ate more than both the girls combined, but being up earlier than usual didn't sit well with him and he was rather tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRw_l2AoI/AAAAAAAABC0/PoMa2VtyE4k/s1600/nov09+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410390798245429890" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRw_l2AoI/AAAAAAAABC0/PoMa2VtyE4k/s400/nov09+018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But never too tired to have dessert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRwvx0w2I/AAAAAAAABCs/1RTLX0ODkFU/s1600/nov09+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410390794000712546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRwvx0w2I/AAAAAAAABCs/1RTLX0ODkFU/s400/nov09+014.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Claire's favorite part was the chocolate fountain.  She kept coming back with stick after stick, saying, "Look what I stabbed for you!"  She says she also loved the potato salad and the macaroni and cheese was pretty good too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRwPQFn1I/AAAAAAAABCk/e2skrmYzfNM/s1600/nov09+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410390785269276498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRwPQFn1I/AAAAAAAABCk/e2skrmYzfNM/s400/nov09+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige says the ice cream sundae bar was her favorite part of Thanksgiving.  Although she did love the mashed potatoes and "moon rolls" (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;croissants&lt;/span&gt;).  She truly is my daughter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRvcGgYKI/AAAAAAAABCc/5Wab4Uhcxlk/s1600/nov09+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410390771538878626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRvcGgYKI/AAAAAAAABCc/5Wab4Uhcxlk/s400/nov09+021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bode did finally conk out about halfway through, which meant I got to snuggle him while Steve brought my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;croissants&lt;/span&gt; and bread pudding.  Not a bad gig!  Steve and my favorite's included: prime rib, ham (incredible this year!), pork roast stuffed with sausage, pumpkin cheesecake, bread pudding with rum sauce, and of course &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;croissants&lt;/span&gt; and shrimp!  Can't say either one of us had a bite of turkey that day!  Some memorable moments from this year were:  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Michelle dumping her glass of water into Rob's lap.  Inevitably that guy gets soaked at Thanksgiving every year.  At least this year it wasn't pee!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marnie requested a "bottle" of Diet Coke from our little foreign waitress.  She brought her a kids cup with a lid.  Marnie had to think hard of a way to convey to her what we wanted was a pitcher since we were going through quite a bit.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dad's story of "Bruce".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Steve and Rob playing "Dirt" at the after party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRvJKG6-I/AAAAAAAABCU/lKFrGl6pUv4/s1600/nov09+029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410390766453713890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWRvJKG6-I/AAAAAAAABCU/lKFrGl6pUv4/s400/nov09+029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All in all it was a great holiday.  I can't help but well up thinking about all the things I have to be thankful for this year.  I think top of the list is my dad.  It has been one HELL of a year for him.  I know there were times when it would have been easier for him to just give up and let go, and I am so grateful he kept fighting.  I still get so touched to watch him finally be able to eat again.  And here he stands, at 89% he claims, still 30 lbs  and a gall bladder lighter.  He is such an important man in my life, I can't imagine it without him.   Thanks for a great day, dad!  We love you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7186861683807053495?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7186861683807053495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7186861683807053495' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7186861683807053495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7186861683807053495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/12/thanksgiving-2009.html' title='Thanksgiving 2009'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWSChdXcuI/AAAAAAAABC8/BiKViGfMkF4/s72-c/nov09+012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8883503178532976380</id><published>2009-12-01T14:48:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T14:55:19.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Believe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWPQ1rvBiI/AAAAAAAABBk/5e-KXK-DpxY/s1600/nov09+035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410388046806713890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWPQ1rvBiI/AAAAAAAABBk/5e-KXK-DpxY/s400/nov09+035.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up my sisters and I always looked forward to General Conference, but probably not for the same reasons most people do.  My dad always hosted a McClure Super Saturday.  Mom would make butterscotch bubble bun, Dad would put together a craft for us to paint, there was always a "No Whining" sign to be displayed and the Diet Coke was plentiful.  By the end of the day, my sisters and I had laughed so hard we nearly wet ourselves and I'm pretty sure Dad was happy to show us to the door.  Last Christmas, he re-instated Super Saturday by cutting out these &lt;strong&gt;Believe&lt;/strong&gt; letters with the intention of getting together in the Spring for finishing.  Apparently his pancreas had other plans, because it was just last weekend that we actually did it!  I chose to "think out of the box" like my dad always encouraged us to, and made my set a little less traditional than my sisters and more "whimsical".  I wasn't able to finish there since I had forgotten my stain and Mod Podge, so I promised to submit a picture so dad could admire my work.  I haven't heard his opinion yet, but I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out!&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/2839229465856949694-8883503178532976380?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8883503178532976380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8883503178532976380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8883503178532976380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8883503178532976380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/12/believe.html' title='Believe'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWPQ1rvBiI/AAAAAAAABBk/5e-KXK-DpxY/s72-c/nov09+035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-554027292598419052</id><published>2009-12-01T14:41:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T14:48:00.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Decor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN6NLpPHI/AAAAAAAABBc/cY3xyOpbmhU/s1600/nov09+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410386558465948786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN6NLpPHI/AAAAAAAABBc/cY3xyOpbmhU/s400/nov09+033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Uhh...pretty similar to Halloween, minus the witches and ghosts.  Although I must admit, those baby blue pilgrims are pretty scary.  Note to self:  PAINT THOSE NEXT YEAR!  Country blue and mauve are no longer in.  Can you tell how long this couple has been around??  I do love how you can get a solid 2 months out of Fall and Harvest decorations.  The "Give Thanks" sign will always be one of my favorites.  It was a Super Saturday class my sisters and I taught with my mom less than a month before she passed away.  I can now remember every detail about that day...what she wore, who she sat by, where we went to eat after.  Good times!  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN501rDKI/AAAAAAAABBU/cQLuTCDL3gI/s1600/nov09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410386551931341986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN501rDKI/AAAAAAAABBU/cQLuTCDL3gI/s400/nov09+032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sadly, Mr. Turkey has been a work in progress for years.  For some reason, I can't finish his shoe buckles and every year I think I need to re-do his feathers.  2010 it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN5T25QZI/AAAAAAAABBM/mQUVE-UozFw/s1600/nov09+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410386543078097298" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN5T25QZI/AAAAAAAABBM/mQUVE-UozFw/s400/nov09+031.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN5D5Xa5I/AAAAAAAABBE/O2Omx402OWY/s1600/nov09+030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410386538793495442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN5D5Xa5I/AAAAAAAABBE/O2Omx402OWY/s400/nov09+030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-554027292598419052?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/554027292598419052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=554027292598419052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/554027292598419052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/554027292598419052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/12/thanksgiving-decor.html' title='Thanksgiving Decor'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWN6NLpPHI/AAAAAAAABBc/cY3xyOpbmhU/s72-c/nov09+033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8380282253376133072</id><published>2009-12-01T14:31:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T14:41:42.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Decor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Halloween is one of my favorite holidays to decorate for.  I don't know if it's just because it's the beginning of the big run of decoration, or the fact that it's ok to be gross for a month, but I love it. I took a tip from my mother long ago to take pictures every year so you can remember where everything goes.  This is particularly helpful when you add new stuff every year, like I did (SHHH...don't tell Steve!)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLgwGUSBI/AAAAAAAABA8/IO9-8CmH7DQ/s1600/halloween09+097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410383922138990610" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLgwGUSBI/AAAAAAAABA8/IO9-8CmH7DQ/s400/halloween09+097.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Shelf in my entryway: I actually bought the wire pumpkin as a Bunco prize when I hosted last month, but I liked it too much to give it away.  (One of several items I ended up keeping...note to self, buy ugly prizes!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLgE2LU7I/AAAAAAAABA0/d_q6-i3rbQw/s1600/halloween09+098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410383910528570290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLgE2LU7I/AAAAAAAABA0/d_q6-i3rbQw/s400/halloween09+098.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Desktop in entry:  My leaf scentsy burner is new...sad to put it away!  It was my first and I LOVED it!  The spiders are new...intended as Bunco centerpieces until I remembered that we need the center of the table to play, DUH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLfwlY0BI/AAAAAAAABAs/D-1b5KdIeCo/s1600/halloween09+095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410383905089441810" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLfwlY0BI/AAAAAAAABAs/D-1b5KdIeCo/s400/halloween09+095.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Living Room Shelf:  Spooky bottles are new...bottled swamp fog and vampire blood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLfTD--wI/AAAAAAAABAk/oBOoJZ_cZPQ/s1600/nov09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410383897164708610" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLfTD--wI/AAAAAAAABAk/oBOoJZ_cZPQ/s400/nov09+002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All new!!!  My Frankenstein lights up next to my spooky collection of spider legs and eyeballs.  Pay no attention to his droopy left lip...he was experimental!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLe40x6pI/AAAAAAAABAc/Qlddk02vA-g/s1600/nov09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410383890121616018" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLe40x6pI/AAAAAAAABAc/Qlddk02vA-g/s400/nov09+001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Same as last year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Can't think of a good reason why I didn't take a picture of the front door.  I bought a new candy corn wreath (again, for Bunco) and draped lit grapevine across the entryway.  I added some fall leaves, which I still need to take down, and some spooky hanging bats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-8380282253376133072?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8380282253376133072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8380282253376133072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8380282253376133072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8380282253376133072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/12/halloween-decor.html' title='Halloween Decor'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxWLgwGUSBI/AAAAAAAABA8/IO9-8CmH7DQ/s72-c/halloween09+097.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5724254125159712712</id><published>2009-11-28T22:52:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:06:58.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVh0f-II/AAAAAAAABAU/qcQNaODISYY/s1600/swanabe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409400765932370050" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVh0f-II/AAAAAAAABAU/qcQNaODISYY/s400/swanabe.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, it's true.  With choices like these...I am a complete Bella Swanabe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVbwJlYI/AAAAAAAABAM/xFI_m0uwoVE/s1600/Bunco+Group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 293px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409400764303512962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVbwJlYI/AAAAAAAABAM/xFI_m0uwoVE/s400/Bunco+Group.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last weekend my monthly Bunco group happened to fall on the same night as the New Moon premiere.  So, Lanie and Steph, our cute hosts, went totally above and beyond and hosted the best New Moon party ever!  I truly could have skipped out on Bunco that night, we were just so excited for the show!  (Which by the way, did NOT disappoint!)  My good friend and I were SO excited that we made "dazzling" shirts to wear.  One Bunco member backed out at the last minute, so I was able to call my sister and invite her to meet us at the movies.  She had already seen it the night before, but accepted the invite in an enthusiastic "YES!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVFqqgSI/AAAAAAAABAE/VLxS0rKZ7v0/s1600/blood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409400758374924578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVFqqgSI/AAAAAAAABAE/VLxS0rKZ7v0/s400/blood.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Steph and Lanie provided gift bags for everyone to take to the show, complete with "Blood", Edward, Bella and Jacob hologram cups, candy bars and Sweet-tarts, Twilight lotion, and of course...vampire teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINU7mve8I/AAAAAAAAA_8/3Ul4iH7brhM/s1600/punchbowl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409400755674119106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINU7mve8I/AAAAAAAAA_8/3Ul4iH7brhM/s400/punchbowl.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We pulled out our "inner vampires" and drank blood straight from the IV bags hanging into the punch bowl and feasted on red velvet cupcakes with dripping blood icing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINUUiv0OI/AAAAAAAAA_0/vztTBSWctRM/s1600/the+goodies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409400745188380898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINUUiv0OI/AAAAAAAAA_0/vztTBSWctRM/s400/the+goodies.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was truly the funnest night!  I can't WAIT to see it again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5724254125159712712?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5724254125159712712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5724254125159712712' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5724254125159712712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5724254125159712712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-moon.html' title='New Moon'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SxINVh0f-II/AAAAAAAABAU/qcQNaODISYY/s72-c/swanabe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2522545075833711998</id><published>2009-11-16T16:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T16:15:24.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Christmas Card???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZmcxUeI/AAAAAAAAA_s/MOmRf8sCipk/s1600/vincent_kids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404842260685738466" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZmcxUeI/AAAAAAAAA_s/MOmRf8sCipk/s400/vincent_kids.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Photography seems to be the new rage in my old West Jordan neighborhood.  Several of my friends there have gotten fancy new cameras and have been taking classes and posting amazing pictures on their blogs.  A few weeks ago, I called my friend Bobette and offered her some lovely new subjects to photograph.  She accepted!  We had a great day, wandering Gardner Village and catching up with each other.  This is what she came up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZkYr5QI/AAAAAAAAA_k/jTeaq7Hnpm4/s1600/paige_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404842260131734786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZkYr5QI/AAAAAAAAA_k/jTeaq7Hnpm4/s400/paige_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Abnormally, Bode seemed a little shy...but Paige was more than happy to jump in for him.  Bob just kept laughing that Paige was such a poser...so eager to have her picture taken and so different from her 7 year old boy who would rather "have his toenails pulled out" than smile for one more picture!  I love how Bobette was able to capture Paige's beautiful crystal blue eyes...they have always been one of my favorite features.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZd5aIiI/AAAAAAAAA_c/UnHeOl6ioMg/s1600/claire_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404842258389934626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZd5aIiI/AAAAAAAAA_c/UnHeOl6ioMg/s400/claire_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This could quite easily be my favorite picture EVER of Claire.  It is so rare to catch a genuine smile on that girl...she is all cheese, all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZFvDfTI/AAAAAAAAA_U/20jHahYsFlE/s1600/bode_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404842251904056626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZFvDfTI/AAAAAAAAA_U/20jHahYsFlE/s400/bode_2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And doesn't Bode look so angelic?  Not to mention how much I LOVE the orange door! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thanks Bobette, for a great day!  Can't wait to see more!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2522545075833711998?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2522545075833711998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2522545075833711998' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2522545075833711998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2522545075833711998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/11/christmas-card.html' title='A Christmas Card???'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SwHbZmcxUeI/AAAAAAAAA_s/MOmRf8sCipk/s72-c/vincent_kids.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-784581481034890498</id><published>2009-11-03T13:12:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T11:40:26.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PumpKin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Our annual trip to the pumpkin patch was disappointing this year. As usual the girls played on every tractor there, but this year they found baby wheelbarrows to push around. (So cute for pictures! ) But maybe they didn't realize that it was FREEZING and most of the pumpkins were rotted into mush! Granted it was 2 days before Halloween and we got them for next to nothing because of it...but still.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSDIskJYI/AAAAAAAAA_M/Ya3LgvEua2c/s1600-h/halloween09+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399976535788889474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSDIskJYI/AAAAAAAAA_M/Ya3LgvEua2c/s400/halloween09+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSCtMIAoI/AAAAAAAAA_E/FEcdOUL-k-U/s1600-h/halloween09+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399976528405070466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSCtMIAoI/AAAAAAAAA_E/FEcdOUL-k-U/s400/halloween09+014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSCVadtAI/AAAAAAAAA-8/p4wMtvbxCq4/s1600-h/halloween09+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399976522022761474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSCVadtAI/AAAAAAAAA-8/p4wMtvbxCq4/s400/halloween09+019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We came home to some homemade creamy chicken noodle soup and thawed out a little bit before digging right in. The girls loved getting messy and of course competing to see you could get their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pumpkin&lt;/span&gt; inside the "cleanest".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSBxE4uLI/AAAAAAAAA-0/-UHoJCxrhdA/s1600-h/halloween09+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399976512268581042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSBxE4uLI/AAAAAAAAA-0/-UHoJCxrhdA/s400/halloween09+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We did have one minor set back with little Bode. He went crawling along too fast and slid on the kitchen floor, splitting his lip. He really was fine, but his poor sisters were terrified! Paige quit her pumpkin carving to write him a note that said, "Bode, I hope you FELL well soon. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SUR&lt;/span&gt; do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ADOR&lt;/span&gt; you." What a sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSBmuAiTI/AAAAAAAAA-s/pcdzat8KXMo/s1600-h/halloween09+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399976509488269618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSBmuAiTI/AAAAAAAAA-s/pcdzat8KXMo/s400/halloween09+027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQwYaMaUI/AAAAAAAAA-k/OahWOiGwhSc/s1600-h/halloween09+029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399975114077661506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQwYaMaUI/AAAAAAAAA-k/OahWOiGwhSc/s400/halloween09+029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; year we had this "GREAT" idea of buying a pattern book with tools that was "easy". False advertising at its best! What it really should have said was, "Mommy...you trace and cut out all the pumpkins with this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;itty&lt;/span&gt;, bitty saw that looks like a toothpick with a handle, all the while blocking out the whining of the children who "want to do it" yet snap the blades right off." Yea...NOT a family friendly activity. Although I did let them light their own...which turned out to be quite the popular chore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQvVvyY-I/AAAAAAAAA-c/50XdJx7iANE/s1600-h/halloween09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399975096183055330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQvVvyY-I/AAAAAAAAA-c/50XdJx7iANE/s400/halloween09+032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; BUT...after literally HOURS...we got some pretty awesome pumpkins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQu--MLnI/AAAAAAAAA-U/-odFNwbFv_s/s1600-h/halloween09+034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399975090069450354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQu--MLnI/AAAAAAAAA-U/-odFNwbFv_s/s400/halloween09+034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige (upper left corner): hers was by far the hardest. You really can't tell...but hers is a little boy scared in his bed because of the giant eyeball peering through the window.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daddy (upper right corner): the fiery eyeball face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Claire (lower left corner): poor girl goes by Boo more often than her own name...so it was only right that she get that one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bode (lower right): opposite day...he is so NOT a monster...but it was cute like him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQuOEia7I/AAAAAAAAA-M/oV6TdrHy2sg/s1600-h/halloween09+036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399975076942736306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQuOEia7I/AAAAAAAAA-M/oV6TdrHy2sg/s400/halloween09+036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and Mommy...got her own because it was carved many hours later after the kids were in bed, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pumpkin&lt;/span&gt; seeds were sorted from the pumpkin goo, the goo was wiped off the fronts of the cabinets and the floor and I could quietly carve in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQtn2b8PI/AAAAAAAAA-E/ynSHy1PdbjE/s1600-h/halloween09+039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399975066683044082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCQtn2b8PI/AAAAAAAAA-E/ynSHy1PdbjE/s400/halloween09+039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; HAPPY BELATED HALLOWEEN!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-784581481034890498?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/784581481034890498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=784581481034890498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/784581481034890498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/784581481034890498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/11/pumpkin.html' title='PumpKin'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SvCSDIskJYI/AAAAAAAAA_M/Ya3LgvEua2c/s72-c/halloween09+021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7609017357569784660</id><published>2009-11-01T18:37:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T19:10:28.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Costume Parade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I {heart} Halloween.  I really do!  I know in years past I have complained about it being a stupid holiday because all I do is sew costumes into the wee hours of the night, but this year I started early enough that by the time Halloween rolled around I had no projects left to do!  And this year was a total success!!  I was thrilled with how each costume turned out!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45t9GuEqI/AAAAAAAAA98/7aNQqEvVvFU/s1600-h/halloween09+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399316464923447970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45t9GuEqI/AAAAAAAAA98/7aNQqEvVvFU/s400/halloween09+057.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige is still on a baking kick from her August birthday bash!  Maybe it's because I can no longer bake these days, or maybe it's because if she wants to stay up late with me, I make her watch Food Network...I don't know, either way, she wanted to be a CHEF this year.  The pants were fairly simple...basic elastic waist pants in a fun food print.  I had a pattern for the hat (and technically the jacket too, but it was a size 4).  I found a pattern for a long wool coat and modified it to be a chef jacket.  My only complaint is that it was pretty see through...but with a shirt under, who cares??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45tTIn10I/AAAAAAAAA90/GkVdgbGlmlY/s1600-h/halloween09+055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399316453657139010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45tTIn10I/AAAAAAAAA90/GkVdgbGlmlY/s400/halloween09+055.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She topped it all off by trick or treating with a saucepan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45s12pmQI/AAAAAAAAA9s/dpG0VITyFa4/s1600-h/halloween09+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399316445797128450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45s12pmQI/AAAAAAAAA9s/dpG0VITyFa4/s400/halloween09+054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; THE GIRLS...sadly Bode wasn't dressed yet, and I didn't really want pictures of him sitting in the dirt...kind of detracts from the girls cute full length costumes.  Sorry, buddy...maybe next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45sdKvAaI/AAAAAAAAA9k/IDevNAR0Jqk/s1600-h/halloween09+062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399316439170482594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45sdKvAaI/AAAAAAAAA9k/IDevNAR0Jqk/s400/halloween09+062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Claire decided on Minnie Mouse.  Honestly, I found the perfect Minnie dress fabric and gently &lt;em&gt;persuaded&lt;/em&gt; her to be Minnie Mouse.  It wasn't a hard sale.  Who would have thought stupid McCalls and Simplicity would have pulled that classic pattern???  There were several options for a gazillion princesses, but not the mouse.  So I took a basic dress pattern and viola!!  Thanks mom, for teaching me how to sew...those early Saturday morning "UNITS" classes really have come in handy!  I was planning on spray painting some old shoes yellow, but as it grew closer, the shoes grew stinkier and stinker and finally walked themselves to the trash!  (Claire may be cute...but she has the stinkiest feet ever!)  I totally scored at Walmart one afternoon in finding yellow crocs for 3 bucks!  Tie a little red bow and perfect Minnie shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45r3aPb1I/AAAAAAAAA9c/aempeWFAX8s/s1600-h/halloween09+063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399316429034975058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45r3aPb1I/AAAAAAAAA9c/aempeWFAX8s/s400/halloween09+063.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Notice the ears...this is the second set we went through this year.  Luckily they were abundant and easily found in the costume aisle.  I was so happy to save a few bucks and re-use some ears from a previous "Boots the Monkey" costume.  We had a ward trunk or treat early in the month, and since then couldn't find the ears again.  Of course we didn't know the ears were missing until we were trying to walk out the door to Grandma and Grandpa McClure's party.  So, one earless party and one trip to Walmart, you would think that would have made one happy girl, but instead it made 2 UNHAPPY girls since ear #2 came with tail #2, which led to both girls having play tails and only one set of ears to fight over for eternity.  When will they learn that life just isn't fair?  And speaking of life lessons...when will I learn (after black noses and whiskers 4 days in a row) that black eyeliner doesn't come off easily and it is best to buy the Halloween makeup?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44z2GV51I/AAAAAAAAA9U/-J2fg5JYT4s/s1600-h/halloween09+079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399315466610403154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44z2GV51I/AAAAAAAAA9U/-J2fg5JYT4s/s400/halloween09+079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bode's little turtle costume came as quite a surprise as I had set out to make him into a snowman.  I had all the supplies and was ready to start when I got a message from my sister, Marnie,  saying, "Forget the snowman...Bode is going to be a turtle." In talking to her about it, she had hosted a costume exchange with her Primary.  It wasn't a big hit, but her neighbor had brought over the cutest turtle costume, it almost wanted to make Marn have another baby...almost.  (Luckily it fit Bode, so he saved her from going to all that trouble!)  The costume was adorable, even though Bode refused to keep the hat on.  I still really wanted him to be a snowman, until Steve gently pointed out that he would really just look like a snowBALL sitting in the stroller...it might be a better idea to be a snowman that could actually walk.  (So much for the surprise for next year!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44zauEPUI/AAAAAAAAA9M/6Pbn4uVXWu4/s1600-h/halloween09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399315459260824898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44zauEPUI/AAAAAAAAA9M/6Pbn4uVXWu4/s400/halloween09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know this is really out of character for me to allow my children to wear a store-bought costume...but it's not a cheesy plastic outfit, it was plush and pouffy and it had the cutest shell and little turtle feet.  And I could call Bode a little "TERD" and get away with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44zL8rkKI/AAAAAAAAA9E/-WVDMz6tuMw/s1600-h/halloween09+087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399315455295590562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44zL8rkKI/AAAAAAAAA9E/-WVDMz6tuMw/s400/halloween09+087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While daddy and the girls trick or treated, I crawled all around the living room floor making noises and faces, trying to get the perfect picture of Bode in his costume.  He was more interested in drinking his bottle, and then moved on to reading books. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44ylopVQI/AAAAAAAAA88/GtRtr3y60TI/s1600-h/halloween09+091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399315445011010818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44ylopVQI/AAAAAAAAA88/GtRtr3y60TI/s400/halloween09+091.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And then he turned into all smiles when I told him what we were going to do next...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44yYnrv6I/AAAAAAAAA80/kdbR2GZyFDs/s1600-h/halloween09+074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399315441517313954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su44yYnrv6I/AAAAAAAAA80/kdbR2GZyFDs/s400/halloween09+074.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; RAID THE GIRLS' CANDY!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7609017357569784660?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7609017357569784660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7609017357569784660' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7609017357569784660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7609017357569784660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/11/costume-parade.html' title='Costume Parade'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Su45t9GuEqI/AAAAAAAAA98/7aNQqEvVvFU/s72-c/halloween09+057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6238549179479512571</id><published>2009-10-25T20:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T20:39:35.579-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call me SUPER-MOM!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuUKXRMlamI/AAAAAAAAA8s/3qf2eVencb8/s1600-h/october+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396731123342862946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuUKXRMlamI/AAAAAAAAA8s/3qf2eVencb8/s400/october+033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can't believe this is what our family was doing a year ago.  Looking back, I really don't know what I was thinking?  How was this a good idea??  A two-week old baby and a 6-year old in half body casts who just cried in pain for most of the day?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The good news is...WE SURVIVED!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Paige had a check up at Shriners last week and we were told...all is well!  (for now)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They did all sorts of measurements and found that Paige still is not able to flex her left foot (not even to a 90 degree angle) so we were assigned some daily stretching exercises and go back in 10 months.  She has said recently..."I'm really going to miss my wheelchair this Halloween. It was kind of fun not to have to walk."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6238549179479512571?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6238549179479512571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6238549179479512571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6238549179479512571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6238549179479512571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-call-me-super-mom.html' title='Just call me SUPER-MOM!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuUKXRMlamI/AAAAAAAAA8s/3qf2eVencb8/s72-c/october+033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6178369762194235991</id><published>2009-10-22T17:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T17:54:55.658-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, My Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuTrwqKeI/AAAAAAAAA8k/SwHIhjS-J9k/s1600-h/bode+birthday-09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395574375521593826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuTrwqKeI/AAAAAAAAA8k/SwHIhjS-J9k/s400/bode+birthday-09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last year in Kindergarten, Paige was lucky to find a sweet little friend named Layla.  When Paige was in her casts/wheelchair, Layla would beg Miss Holliday to let her stay in during recess and sit with Paige.  Miss Tiffany (our awesome dance teacher) saved a spot for Paige in Layla's dance class so they were able to be together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuTH9OVAI/AAAAAAAAA8c/rPJ9BAyvkKw/s1600-h/oct09+029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395574365910619138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuTH9OVAI/AAAAAAAAA8c/rPJ9BAyvkKw/s400/oct09+029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This year, going to first grade was pretty nerve-wracking for both of them since our school boundaries had split and a lot of their friends were going to a new school.  When we walked in to meet Paige's teacher, we were thrilled to find Layla's desk right next to Paige's!  Since then we have played almost every day and truly become the best of friends.  So you can imagine our broken hearts when Layla's mom announced that they were moving to Tennessee.  They are leaving November 1, after they go off track.  The girls have exchanged email addresses and once they get settled, we thought it would be a perfect opportunity to practice writing by being pen-pals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuSgAngmI/AAAAAAAAA8U/-oe5up2SzJY/s1600-h/oct09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395574355187434082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuSgAngmI/AAAAAAAAA8U/-oe5up2SzJY/s400/oct09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last week, while I was preparing to host Bunco, Steve took the girls over to play at the school to grab a few shots of their favorite things to do together so I could use them later for a "farewell gift".  The tire swing is their absolute FAVE!!  Surprisingly, it's not the ride either of them really want...they love to push it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuSAsc7YI/AAAAAAAAA8M/FbWwIk33no0/s1600-h/oct09+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395574346781355394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuSAsc7YI/AAAAAAAAA8M/FbWwIk33no0/s400/oct09+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And Paige, my little monkey, has taught Layla how to climb the monkey bars this year.  This is how every school day ends...with a little play time at the school with Layla before we go home...and play with Layla!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Paige has been so fortunate to have a friend like Layla...we will certainly miss her!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6178369762194235991?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6178369762194235991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6178369762194235991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6178369762194235991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6178369762194235991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/goodbye-my-friend.html' title='Goodbye, My Friend'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SuDuTrwqKeI/AAAAAAAAA8k/SwHIhjS-J9k/s72-c/bode+birthday-09+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7254582374120731749</id><published>2009-10-19T13:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T13:14:19.135-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween BUNCO!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4_ZFt5XI/AAAAAAAAA8E/MP_28JQII6Q/s1600-h/oct09+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394389852889146738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4_ZFt5XI/AAAAAAAAA8E/MP_28JQII6Q/s400/oct09+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;OK, I have become one of those ladies who LOVES to play BUNCO!  I never quite got it, so in the summer when my friend, Manda, asked me to be in a group I hesitated.  But then she sold it to me as one girls-night out a month.  The first time was a little awkward, since we didn't know how to play and we only knew each other.  But, DANG, this is one fun group of ladies!  Over the past few months we have become closer and when we get together we have a really LOUD, good time!  It is so fun, I look forward to it every month.  Especially this month, since I was hosting.  Of course I picked October, so that I had an easy theme.  I picked out my prizes early...so early that I ended up keeping two of them and having to replace them with something else.  They were so cute!  And to make it even more fun, I required that everyone show up in costume. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4-6pPcvI/AAAAAAAAA78/1YeJnHSCP_o/s1600-h/oct09+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394389844716647154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4-6pPcvI/AAAAAAAAA78/1YeJnHSCP_o/s400/oct09+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Taunie and Amber...saloon girl and rodeo clown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4-QBw01I/AAAAAAAAA70/fmgNLrXY6ac/s1600-h/oct09+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394389833276773202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4-QBw01I/AAAAAAAAA70/fmgNLrXY6ac/s400/oct09+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Manda and me...flapper and cavegirl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7254582374120731749?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7254582374120731749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7254582374120731749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7254582374120731749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7254582374120731749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween-bunco.html' title='Halloween BUNCO!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty4_ZFt5XI/AAAAAAAAA8E/MP_28JQII6Q/s72-c/oct09+026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5976456093063641727</id><published>2009-10-19T12:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T13:14:52.224-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Needs Toys???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2pAWtpFI/AAAAAAAAA7s/y5cwKMTbTO0/s1600-h/oct09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394387269269169234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2pAWtpFI/AAAAAAAAA7s/y5cwKMTbTO0/s400/oct09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This will be another one of those posts where Steve will say to me, " First of all, I can't believe you took pictures of that...and secondly, post them on the Internet for all our friends to see??" What's a mom to do? It all started with a boy who loved the splash. Bode would find random things...hair elastics, McDonald's toys, shampoo bottles...and throw them into the toilet. I found it rather amusing...and warned the family to keep the lid down. Obviously, we all did a great job heeding my own advice. Bode grew out of throwing things into the toilet within a week or two. He had moved on to something better. He had discovered that while throwing something into the toilet made a nice splash, it only lasted for a second. The splashing could last much longer if he stuck his whole arm in there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2ouUs65I/AAAAAAAAA7k/bF9yD70qKZk/s1600-h/oct09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394387264428895122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2ouUs65I/AAAAAAAAA7k/bF9yD70qKZk/s400/oct09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So cute, but totally busted. I love how he looks at me like, "WHAT?? Is this not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2n8_4a1I/AAAAAAAAA7c/yTPjAXBxX-0/s1600-h/oct09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394387251188230994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2n8_4a1I/AAAAAAAAA7c/yTPjAXBxX-0/s400/oct09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And...going in for the splash. (Not to worry...we are good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;flushers&lt;/span&gt; at our house, so it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; just water!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2nTBnlDI/AAAAAAAAA7U/mt9MDt06dF4/s1600-h/oct09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394387239921226802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2nTBnlDI/AAAAAAAAA7U/mt9MDt06dF4/s400/oct09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And the classic Bode smile we all love. Notice his left arm is soaked!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since the "close the lid" phenomenon didn't seem to catch on, maybe we can master closing the door! But who am I to take away the boy's fun? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5976456093063641727?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5976456093063641727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5976456093063641727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5976456093063641727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5976456093063641727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/who-needs-toys.html' title='Who Needs Toys???'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sty2pAWtpFI/AAAAAAAAA7s/y5cwKMTbTO0/s72-c/oct09+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7729368253247145725</id><published>2009-10-13T03:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T03:36:43.068-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"One" Sweet Mess</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGL2O_LxI/AAAAAAAAA7M/pdp1WiTiAlY/s1600-h/bode+birthday-09+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392011823220207378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGL2O_LxI/AAAAAAAAA7M/pdp1WiTiAlY/s400/bode+birthday-09+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bode's&lt;/span&gt; birthday bash went off this weekend without a hitch!  I "hired" (and by hired, I mean asked) my cute friend Heather to help me make some invites...but instead she just made them for me. (LOVE HER!!!)  I must admit...they were darling!  I had no idea we knew so many people, but by the time we invited both McClure and Vincent families, and some close friends, we had 50 people coming!!  I always order my cakes from Costco because they are so yummy, and for my kids first birthday I have always gotten them their own little cake from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WalMart&lt;/span&gt;.  But this year I couldn't find little cakes at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WalMart&lt;/span&gt;...just little cakes and cupcakes from Sam's Club.  And considering our lengthy guest list, I picked both...and don't they match nicely??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGLbzFPYI/AAAAAAAAA7E/DVeOFzKFnrM/s1600-h/bode+birthday-09+025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392011816123841922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGLbzFPYI/AAAAAAAAA7E/DVeOFzKFnrM/s400/bode+birthday-09+025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We started out with presents and then let everyone have their cake before the entertainment.  As we were serving cake and ice cream to everyone, I looked over at Bode, who was just longingly eyeing his friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kade's&lt;/span&gt; ice cream (the kid is a &lt;strong&gt;true&lt;/strong&gt; Vincent...he &lt;strong&gt;LOVES&lt;/strong&gt; ice cream!!)  I bet we had a dozen kids playing in the basement, but when they heard Bode was about to dig in, they all gathered 'round.  As per tradition, we stripped him down to his diaper and let him go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGK0OWQlI/AAAAAAAAA68/MzF4HgRK2DM/s1600-h/bode+birthday-09+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392011805500785234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGK0OWQlI/AAAAAAAAA68/MzF4HgRK2DM/s400/bode+birthday-09+033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He was timid at first, although eager to try it.  Bode has never been much of a "self-feeder" so I thought this could get interesting.  He started by picking off each of the three orange balloons, and then the yellow edging.  I finally helped him out and pushed his hand a little deeper so that he realized there was something else inside.  Although being a frosting lover myself, I can't blame him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGKZaPc-I/AAAAAAAAA60/E-qWhzutoq4/s1600-h/bode+birthday-09+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392011798302913506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGKZaPc-I/AAAAAAAAA60/E-qWhzutoq4/s400/bode+birthday-09+043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Soon he was grabbing handfuls and shoveling it in.  But I must admit, I was proud that he was pretty neat and tidy about it.  If a crumb fell to the side of him, he was quick to pick it up.  And (unlike his mother) he showed some willpower and knew when enough was enough, and politely pushed the cake away with his feet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGJ9q4nJI/AAAAAAAAA6s/Sj10Ft6D4uw/s1600-h/bode+birthday-09+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392011790856526994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGJ9q4nJI/AAAAAAAAA6s/Sj10Ft6D4uw/s400/bode+birthday-09+041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then, much to the children's dismay, it was off to the bathtub...one of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bode's&lt;/span&gt; favorite things.  But not to be wasteful...Bode sat in the tub, licking frosting from in between his chubby little fingers before playing in the water.  And despite the extra sugar...my little birthday boy slept &lt;em&gt;just fine&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The girls have decided that there is no more growing up in this house for our favorite little boy. So hopefully he enjoyed his 1st birthday, because according to his big sis...that is all he gets!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We love you, little one year old boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7729368253247145725?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7729368253247145725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7729368253247145725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7729368253247145725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7729368253247145725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-sweet-mess.html' title='&quot;One&quot; Sweet Mess'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/StRGL2O_LxI/AAAAAAAAA7M/pdp1WiTiAlY/s72-c/bode+birthday-09+020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7951904637567972748</id><published>2009-10-07T16:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T16:26:06.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Repair" to be SCARED!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Last night, Steve and Claire dropped Paige off at dance and decided to go for a little drive.  Their main purpose was to go see the lake, but they found some fun and spooky Halloween decorations on their way.  Claire spotted the traditional witch crashed into a front door and said to Steve, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Daddy...repair to be scared!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0Rk1-FiAI/AAAAAAAAA6k/j_BIOSpZjAQ/s1600-h/october09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389983653692803074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0Rk1-FiAI/AAAAAAAAA6k/j_BIOSpZjAQ/s400/october09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And speaking of repairs...This morning I was scrambling to get Claire off to preschool for her first ever field trip to the Fire Station and couldn't find my glasses.  I knew Bode had pulled himself up to my nightstand earlier, so I began looking under the bed and through all the diapers (clean and unused!) that he had pulled out looking for them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well...I found one piece...and then another...and then another.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I showed the pieces to Bode and asked him if he knew anything about this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This was his response:&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0RkcyOUYI/AAAAAAAAA6c/6gmQGCrWshU/s1600-h/october09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389983646932160898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0RkcyOUYI/AAAAAAAAA6c/6gmQGCrWshU/s400/october09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the culprit: Bode "SweetCheeks" Vincent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0RjudVZBI/AAAAAAAAA6U/aFfDG7826e0/s1600-h/october09+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389983634496513042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0RjudVZBI/AAAAAAAAA6U/aFfDG7826e0/s400/october09+013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the victim: &lt;em&gt;sadly&lt;/em&gt; mom's only source of vision&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It was a clean break, however I think they may be beyond repair.  As you can see, both arms? (is that what they are called?) are completely off along with the hinges that hold the frame together.  I pulled out my old glasses to get me to preschool, and Claire laughed out loud!  She said, "Man you look different...do all old glasses have look like that?"  So I guess the glasses I had picked out in &lt;em&gt;high school&lt;/em&gt; are no longer "cool".  Maybe I'll go back to contacts for a while...oh the joy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7951904637567972748?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7951904637567972748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7951904637567972748' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7951904637567972748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7951904637567972748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/repair-to-be-scared.html' title='&quot;Repair&quot; to be SCARED!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Ss0Rk1-FiAI/AAAAAAAAA6k/j_BIOSpZjAQ/s72-c/october09+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5083144799596644857</id><published>2009-10-04T21:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:00:49.279-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Student of the Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluODGaobI/AAAAAAAAA6M/Tk-CzmSKvjU/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388959616754950578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluODGaobI/AAAAAAAAA6M/Tk-CzmSKvjU/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last week, Paige came home from school so excited that she had been given an "award" at school!  She was awarded Star Student of the week!  I still don't know a whole lot about it...I think the teachers nominate kids and then get together and vote.  Regardless, she was so excited!  She and I had accidentally slept in a little bit that day, so I checked her in late.  I guess they got a little bit nervous that she wasn't at school and were so relieved when she got there and immediately called the assistant principal to take her picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluN6k1LBI/AAAAAAAAA6E/rCMkwpxjOag/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388959614466599954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluN6k1LBI/AAAAAAAAA6E/rCMkwpxjOag/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige got her picture on the wall in the main hallway for the week and was given a certificate, a free Frosty coupon and a free kids meal at Applebee's. (Sadly, she hates that place!)  It appears she was awarded for her "positive attitude".  She must use it all up at school because by the time I pick her up at 3:25, it is all gone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluNe3b_4I/AAAAAAAAA58/I29alEAFPw0/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388959607028449154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluNe3b_4I/AAAAAAAAA58/I29alEAFPw0/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We are very proud of you, Paigearoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5083144799596644857?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5083144799596644857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5083144799596644857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5083144799596644857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5083144799596644857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/star-student-of-week.html' title='Star Student of the Week'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SsluODGaobI/AAAAAAAAA6M/Tk-CzmSKvjU/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1321801341968420002</id><published>2009-10-04T21:32:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T21:53:34.636-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The State Fair</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Earlier this month we decided to show our "Utah State Spirit" and join some friends at the State Fair. None of us had been in ages and thought the kids would just love it! So we headed downtown and met up with our friends, the Longs and the Larsens.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslprigoUHI/AAAAAAAAA50/L0tuwAWrDnI/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954625844465778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 397px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslprigoUHI/AAAAAAAAA50/L0tuwAWrDnI/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls were thrilled to have a chance to play with their friend Jackson, who we rarely get to see.  He is younger than both of them, but Paige loves to play "little mother hen" to him.  They grabbed hands on their own, which was so cute I had to grab a shot of it.  There was a lot of walking around, a lot of "I'm tired's, I'm thirsty's, and I have to go to the bathrooms".  I wish I had thought ahead to stash a cooler in the bottom of the stroller because we spent a TON of money on just drinks and snacks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslprZxTyhI/AAAAAAAAA5s/m16TpoQ2cEI/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954623498504722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslprZxTyhI/AAAAAAAAA5s/m16TpoQ2cEI/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bode, of course...just smiled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpqyuCG1I/AAAAAAAAA5k/n76_WfhpgvM/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954613015780178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpqyuCG1I/AAAAAAAAA5k/n76_WfhpgvM/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We took the kids over to see the Bear Show, not realizing the next show was not until later that night.  I was quite amused to notice the difference between my cute first time mom friends and me.  Our girls ran wild, climbing up and over and hanging all over the bleachers while we visited.  Jackson and Molly's mommies were a little more nervous..."Be careful...Don't do that!"  Love you Heather and Marsh!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpqfXRQSI/AAAAAAAAA5c/cl_jsxW_tpk/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954607820030242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpqfXRQSI/AAAAAAAAA5c/cl_jsxW_tpk/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The kids did have a great time...but unfortunately our friends didn't last too long.  Greg had hurt his back (to save him embarassment, I will keep the reason between us) but he hunched lower and lower over the stroller until he finally had to go home.  And Molly was pretty much done with being in the stroller, so Marsha and Brady left too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpqAX1TRI/AAAAAAAAA5U/Oh4aJqxpYIA/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954599500893458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpqAX1TRI/AAAAAAAAA5U/Oh4aJqxpYIA/s400/031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And yet, Bode kept smiling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpSrr-cUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/YKrGfmfVACk/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954198811242818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpSrr-cUI/AAAAAAAAA5M/YKrGfmfVACk/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpSBoGBPI/AAAAAAAAA5E/3468MUQRYTI/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954187520673010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpSBoGBPI/AAAAAAAAA5E/3468MUQRYTI/s400/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We found it interesting how much sanitizer was around the pig area, but not around the other animals.  (Swine Flu, you know) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpRsXmV4I/AAAAAAAAA48/s-Ella6CZQs/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954181814343554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 386px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpRsXmV4I/AAAAAAAAA48/s-Ella6CZQs/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The girls were so interested in seeing the animals they didn't even notice the smell.  They wanted us to tell them the name of each and every one...so our animal experience lasted a LONG time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpREqFx8I/AAAAAAAAA40/XU9f96fJHzQ/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388954171154483138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslpREqFx8I/AAAAAAAAA40/XU9f96fJHzQ/s400/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We were able to catch a live alligator show, and the bear show.  I wasn't so amused by the bears, just had a hard time biting my tongue to keep from laughing at the host of the show who spoke with a lisp and kept mentioning how "thpectacular" the bears were.  And I am proud to say that our diets weren't horribly scarred by the yummy treats we were able to consume there...strawberry and cream funnel cakes and potato ribbons!!  We couldn't find the frog legs and chose to pass on the deep fried Twinkies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1321801341968420002?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1321801341968420002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1321801341968420002' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1321801341968420002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1321801341968420002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/10/state-fair.html' title='The State Fair'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SslprigoUHI/AAAAAAAAA50/L0tuwAWrDnI/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8462503767722699342</id><published>2009-09-14T12:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:15:45.114-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pick-up Sticks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;One of my more embarassing moments...but one I think every mom can relate to.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sq6HeGS4zWI/AAAAAAAAA4s/MrdBZVqVNPg/s1600-h/AUG09+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381387555909979490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sq6HeGS4zWI/AAAAAAAAA4s/MrdBZVqVNPg/s400/AUG09+045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I heard Bode follow me into the bathroom when I got into the shower, and I knew he had found something more interesting than pulling on the shower curtain, and that he had moved on from playing with the doorstop, but nothing had prepared me for this!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sq6HdfSxDiI/AAAAAAAAA4k/_W6ygDe7PaU/s1600-h/AUG09+044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381387545440488994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sq6HdfSxDiI/AAAAAAAAA4k/_W6ygDe7PaU/s400/AUG09+044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;But really???  Look at that face?  What mommy could be mad at him for this mess??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-8462503767722699342?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8462503767722699342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8462503767722699342' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8462503767722699342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8462503767722699342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/09/pick-up-sticks.html' title='Pick-up Sticks'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sq6HeGS4zWI/AAAAAAAAA4s/MrdBZVqVNPg/s72-c/AUG09+045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8085914511939920147</id><published>2009-09-12T13:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T13:10:34.751-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I come out to play???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sqvx17b_11I/AAAAAAAAA4c/SykCmlaNnPk/s1600-h/preschool09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380660088614672210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sqvx17b_11I/AAAAAAAAA4c/SykCmlaNnPk/s400/preschool09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I took Claire out front to take a few pictures of her on her first day of preschool.  I swear we were only out for a minute, but Bode is starting to crawl so fast, it didn't taken him long to meet us at the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-8085914511939920147?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8085914511939920147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8085914511939920147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8085914511939920147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8085914511939920147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/09/can-i-come-out-to-play.html' title='Can I come out to play???'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sqvx17b_11I/AAAAAAAAA4c/SykCmlaNnPk/s72-c/preschool09+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3333997335431352593</id><published>2009-09-10T04:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T04:51:14.295-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Golden Start</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYDe8sS2I/AAAAAAAAA4U/1YaFpqjW-zA/s1600-h/preschool09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379787309252889442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYDe8sS2I/AAAAAAAAA4U/1YaFpqjW-zA/s400/preschool09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I can't believe it!  Claire started preschool today!  It was something she has looked forward to for such a long time, and she was really nervous.  For the past week, she would burst into tears every time we would mention it, but last night she confided in me...she was a "little bit" excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYCznV-fI/AAAAAAAAA4M/mrESrj7HYXQ/s1600-h/preschool09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379787297620621810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYCznV-fI/AAAAAAAAA4M/mrESrj7HYXQ/s400/preschool09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I overslept this morning, so woke Paige up in a panic, telling her she had to get up for school.  Claire popped right out of bed saying, "I do too!" Thankfully, preschool doesn't start until afternoon, so she got to go back to bed for a while.  On the drive there, she asked me, "What if I miss you?"  I assured her that I would be back to pick her up as soon as she was done learning for the day.  Then she asked me, "Can I suck my thumb in preschool?"  NOPE...that is a definite no!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYCQqATfI/AAAAAAAAA4E/22VABPuj8mI/s1600-h/preschool09+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379787288236543474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYCQqATfI/AAAAAAAAA4E/22VABPuj8mI/s400/preschool09+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She was excited to see Miss Kathy and find her new "Golden Start Preschool" bag.  She wasn't as shy as I anticipated she would be, and she didn't cry when I left, which surprised me too!  Bode and I set off on a new adventure ourselves...grocery shopping, just the two of us.  MAN, it went fast!  I walked out of WalMart in less than 40 minutes and I didn't buy a single thing that wasn't on my list!  Claire was excited to see me when we picked her up.  She showed me the Humpty Dumpty she had made, told me all about "the snack that we eat at movie night", and then told me that preschool was really a pretty short school.  So I think she'll try it again tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-3333997335431352593?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3333997335431352593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3333997335431352593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3333997335431352593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3333997335431352593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/09/golden-start.html' title='Golden Start'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqjYDe8sS2I/AAAAAAAAA4U/1YaFpqjW-zA/s72-c/preschool09+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6614920923108739772</id><published>2009-09-07T03:05:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T03:53:43.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's What's Cookin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP1D3GJnI/AAAAAAAAA38/-lerzIFjZc4/s1600-h/AUG09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378652365463627378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP1D3GJnI/AAAAAAAAA38/-lerzIFjZc4/s400/AUG09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige and I had a change of heart for her birthday this year.  Instead of the traditional, "go to the splash park and eat cake" which we have done for the past two years (cheap and easy), we opted for the more theme-y baking party at our house.  The idea was simple, a few friends would come over, design an apron of their own which they would excitedly wear throughout the party while they made their own mini pizzas and decorated giant sugar cookies.  However, nothing is that simple with Paige.  Her guest list was made mid-July allowing ample time for changes.  Her final count, including herself and her little sister (&lt;em&gt;an obligatory invite&lt;/em&gt;), was &lt;strong&gt;24&lt;/strong&gt;!!  I don't even have that many friends!!  So our intimate little get-together turned into Paige's 7-year old bash!!  But her little friends are all so cute, really who could we cut??  I did, however, draw the line there, despite her pleas for last minute additions.  So with a little help from Paige, we made up the cutest invitations that looked and read like a recipe card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP0nPLtkI/AAAAAAAAA30/HN9mwyqhp4U/s1600-h/AUG09+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378652357780026946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP0nPLtkI/AAAAAAAAA30/HN9mwyqhp4U/s400/AUG09+012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;course&lt;/span&gt;, as to be expected, none of my great party plans turned out just right.  The aprons decorating lasted about 4 minutes and &lt;strong&gt;NO ONE&lt;/strong&gt; wanted to put them on!!  Who are these kids??  So we moved on to the pizza making.  Now how did I not manage to take into consideration that 24 children each making 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt; muffin pizzas would take a huge amount of baking space, not to mention coordination of whose is whose??  I appropriately labeled each child's creation and let Steve and our friend Nate deal with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;divvying&lt;/span&gt; it up.  Luckily, only one sad customer!  While we waited for our pizzas to bake, I had prepared a custom game of BINGO called PAIGE where you had to get a row of matching food items rather than numbers.  Last time I checked, that was a fun game!!! And so clever of me to make 24 different food-themed picture cards.  But by the third or fourth food I had called, kids were bored and eating their M&amp;amp;M markers.   Please notice my nicely weeded backyard.  This took me several days work, many Diet Cokes and I even wore through a pair of gardening gloves.  All because why???  I'm sure all 7-year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; are concerned with the landscape around them...more like I would like their parents coming to pick them up to allow them to play with Paige again and not think they left their children in the weed jungle to be attacked by killer bees!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP0F4y0XI/AAAAAAAAA3s/9H-Z6rJdR-8/s1600-h/AUG09+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378652348827750770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP0F4y0XI/AAAAAAAAA3s/9H-Z6rJdR-8/s400/AUG09+022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at that point we moved on to the presents.  They had all started a stash inside the house, so there was a true parade of kids in and out the backdoor to haul them all to the backyard.  Like most parties, we began in a circle that became tighter and tighter with the opening of each gift.  It became so close that Paige even had to ask friends to "Back off", this causing one guest to trip over the big gift from mom and dad, ripping open the wrapping paper, which in turn caused all the kids to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ohh&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aahh&lt;/span&gt; over Paige's new Razor scooter that she still had not yet seen!  I did start to notice a difference between boys and girls at the party this year.  All the girls were fascinated by the gifts and the pretty bows and how nicely friends had signed their names on the cards, while the few boys in attendance were looking for grasshoppers and praying mantis' and throwing their chef rubber duckies at my yellow jacket traps...(smart idea!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTPznjYpKI/AAAAAAAAA3k/vORvha3wgTk/s1600-h/AUG09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378652340684891298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTPznjYpKI/AAAAAAAAA3k/vORvha3wgTk/s400/AUG09+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And then on to the cookies.  STILL to this DAY, a source of contention in the Vincent home.  But I must say, it all turned out well.  I had ordered 3 dozen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;unfrosted&lt;/span&gt; sugar cookies from Granny B's bakery in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Orem&lt;/span&gt;.  Steve had spent the morning in Park City and went out of his way to pick them up.  When he arrived, he was given this box.  Does this look like 3 dozen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;unfrosted&lt;/span&gt; cookies to you?????  He was told that when the order was taken back to production they were already done making sugar cookies for the week and someone was supposed to send me an email to let me know.  Would he like them to send me the email while he waited?  WHAT GOOD IS THAT GOING TO DO???  I AM PREPARING FOR 24 WILD ANIMALS TO COME TO MY HOUSE TO DECORATE COOKIES...AND THEY REALLY THINK I HAVE TIME TO CHECK MY EMAILS???  After many fine words over the phone between me and the Granny, in which I told her she would get her fanny in the car and drive on out here to explain to my 7 year old daughter how her choice to not make a phone call or send an email has ruined her birthday and then she could stay and entertain all 2 dozen of her closest friends for the next 2 hours since decorating the cookies was now OUT THE WINDOW!!  Long story short, we got free cookies, and I'm pretty sure I will have to use an alias if I order from them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And then, why is it that when you run out of planned activities, give up and just let them run around to entertain themselves, that is when they have the most fun??&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTPzBw9-MI/AAAAAAAAA3c/w40lr1Lttdw/s1600-h/AUG09+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378652330541316290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTPzBw9-MI/AAAAAAAAA3c/w40lr1Lttdw/s400/AUG09+031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point in the party, I was ready to run into the house crying and drown myself in the 64 oz. Diet Coke that Steve had brought home earlier to prevent a mental breakdown.  So we pulled out grandpa's parachute, and I'll tell ya...Grandpa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;BigMac&lt;/span&gt; totally saved the day!!  The kids were squealing with delight as they tried not to bounce the Easter eggs off the parachute (still trying to stick with the theme here) and took turns running underneath.  Paige's friends gradually trickled out, finally leaving just the 5 of us.  Steve turned to me and asked, "So, was that a fun party?"  I about decked him, especially considering that he spent most of the party in the air-conditioned house "Relief-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Societying&lt;/span&gt;" with our friend, Nate.  As calmly as I possibly could I replied, "No, that was not fun at all!"  Before I could even dive into all the things that went wrong, a quiet little voice spoke up from behind us saying, "That was the best birthday EVER!!  Thanks mom and dad!"  And I guess that sums it up...Paige had a great birthday, so that makes it all worth it, right??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6614920923108739772?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6614920923108739772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6614920923108739772' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6614920923108739772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6614920923108739772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/09/heres-whats-cookin.html' title='Here&apos;s What&apos;s Cookin&apos;'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SqTP1D3GJnI/AAAAAAAAA38/-lerzIFjZc4/s72-c/AUG09+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7209841258669995610</id><published>2009-08-25T14:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T14:50:09.175-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Crawlin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNMFKT5uI/AAAAAAAAA2s/hYtshqnYAzY/s1600-h/scan00033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374005125299037922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNMFKT5uI/AAAAAAAAA2s/hYtshqnYAzY/s400/scan00033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I can't believe my little Bodacious is over 10 months old!  Where did time go?  I really am relishing every minute of his babyhood.  He is still as happy as a clam all the time!  He loves to be fed baby food, but still can't grasp the idea of feeding himself.  If I put food on his tray for him, he thinks it's a toy, and that just makes more of a mess than I can handle these days.  So, for now, we are sticking with Gerber squash (his favorite!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNLvmUAVI/AAAAAAAAA2k/uw7H2eTHd3w/s1600-h/scan00055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374005119510905170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNLvmUAVI/AAAAAAAAA2k/uw7H2eTHd3w/s400/scan00055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He is crawling!!  It is still a bit of dragging mixed in, but I would say a true crawl 50% of the time...with the exception of the 10% he walks around on his hands and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tippy&lt;/span&gt;-toes!  He has had a third tooth pop through the top, and his favorite teething toy is...my chin!  He's a fast little bugger about it too.  One minute we are snuggling so cute and the next...CHOMP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNLH8byrI/AAAAAAAAA2c/wdH0MPtDIYQ/s1600-h/scan00011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374005108866271922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 321px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNLH8byrI/AAAAAAAAA2c/wdH0MPtDIYQ/s400/scan00011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And best of all, he remains as studly as ever!!  I love you little man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7209841258669995610?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7209841258669995610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7209841258669995610' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7209841258669995610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7209841258669995610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/crawlin.html' title='Crawlin&apos;'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SpRNMFKT5uI/AAAAAAAAA2s/hYtshqnYAzY/s72-c/scan00033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7043500768858621089</id><published>2009-08-18T16:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T16:42:40.382-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First Grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss17XkTHI/AAAAAAAAA2U/gj2adzg35hU/s1600-h/aug09+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371436285550677106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss17XkTHI/AAAAAAAAA2U/gj2adzg35hU/s400/aug09+041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today, Paige started her first day of first grade.  She was so excited, I didn't even have to fight her to get out of bed at 7:30 this morning.  We went to meet her teacher, Mrs. Rasmussen, yesterday.  Paige was so relieved to see that she wasn't "a grandma".  I however, wanted to sit on her and force feed her a cheeseburger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss1eUpc0I/AAAAAAAAA2M/yKw3aa0DyxU/s1600-h/aug09+046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371436277753803586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss1eUpc0I/AAAAAAAAA2M/yKw3aa0DyxU/s400/aug09+046.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paigearoo was nervous that she wouldn't know anybody.  Our school boundaries changed this year, so a lot of the friends she made in kindergarten are going to a new school.  Luckily, her friend Layla is in her class and they sit right next to each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss0-JuAII/AAAAAAAAA2E/gGyJ-YerO5A/s1600-h/aug09+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371436269118029954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss0-JuAII/AAAAAAAAA2E/gGyJ-YerO5A/s400/aug09+045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige was able to eat her first school lunch, lasagna and pears, and was so excited to use her "pin number" all by herself.  She said they had recess a lot, and she made 2 new friends that were in Miss Holliday's morning class last year.  Of course, she was also able to report exactly who was naughty and who were bad listeners.  She is my little tattler!  We are looking forward to a good year, although I will really miss my sleep! &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7043500768858621089?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7043500768858621089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7043500768858621089' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7043500768858621089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7043500768858621089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-grade.html' title='First Grade'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Soss17XkTHI/AAAAAAAAA2U/gj2adzg35hU/s72-c/aug09+041.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2442460449328271596</id><published>2009-08-18T16:18:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T16:34:33.418-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bounceback</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just chillin' at Lagoon!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosriV5DQDI/AAAAAAAAA18/vyXx19bHvfk/s1600-h/aug09+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371434849561428018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosriV5DQDI/AAAAAAAAA18/vyXx19bHvfk/s400/aug09+022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqYgAXSSI/AAAAAAAAA10/ya7INDk6Ozs/s1600-h/aug09+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371433580966136098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqYgAXSSI/AAAAAAAAA10/ya7INDk6Ozs/s400/aug09+040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lagoon is always fun when it is free...but it is almost as fun when you can bounceback for nine bucks! Our friends next door bounced back with us and we had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqX-jlVbI/AAAAAAAAA1s/Gg-WcSPqgx8/s1600-h/aug09+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371433571987051954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqX-jlVbI/AAAAAAAAA1s/Gg-WcSPqgx8/s400/aug09+037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqXbrou6I/AAAAAAAAA1k/Ktq0iyL9X_E/s1600-h/aug09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371433562625588130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqXbrou6I/AAAAAAAAA1k/Ktq0iyL9X_E/s400/aug09+032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We found rides we had forgotten were there and even convinced Paige to ride "The Bat" at the last second.  Before we had even gone down the first hill, her tears had dried up and she was yelling, "I want to go on this again!"  So we ran back to the end of the line and were able to get on the Bat's very last run of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqW9OJswI/AAAAAAAAA1c/sFVUWaP2QUc/s1600-h/aug09+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371433554448855810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqW9OJswI/AAAAAAAAA1c/sFVUWaP2QUc/s400/aug09+027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was the first time we played games there. I had no desire to take home more stinkin' stuffed animals, but when Brandon kept winning fish after fish for Maihson, we knew we had to "keep up with the Browns". So we played the clown game and won monkeys for everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqWTaQ9wI/AAAAAAAAA1U/gCqgfK-b7As/s1600-h/aug09+025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371433543225374466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosqWTaQ9wI/AAAAAAAAA1U/gCqgfK-b7As/s400/aug09+025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SospurlZlII/AAAAAAAAA1E/6U1N6pdE63E/s1600-h/aug09+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371432862519760002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SospurlZlII/AAAAAAAAA1E/6U1N6pdE63E/s400/aug09+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SospuNwgpII/AAAAAAAAA08/WTWgxPX_gMI/s1600-h/aug09+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371432854513296514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SospuNwgpII/AAAAAAAAA08/WTWgxPX_gMI/s400/aug09+017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosptcR0dNI/AAAAAAAAA00/uE_aBNTlIlE/s1600-h/aug09+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371432841231234258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosptcR0dNI/AAAAAAAAA00/uE_aBNTlIlE/s400/aug09+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bode and Addysen shared biter biscuits and dozed in their strollers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SospsxIRS7I/AAAAAAAAA0s/WCl11pOUpEA/s1600-h/aug09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371432829648456626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SospsxIRS7I/AAAAAAAAA0s/WCl11pOUpEA/s400/aug09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2442460449328271596?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2442460449328271596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2442460449328271596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2442460449328271596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2442460449328271596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/bounceback.html' title='Bounceback'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosriV5DQDI/AAAAAAAAA18/vyXx19bHvfk/s72-c/aug09+022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5046209600009872450</id><published>2009-08-18T16:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T16:17:55.999-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pool Party!</title><content type='html'>We seriously have some of the best friends ever!  My group of girlfriends get try to get together once a month (or three...) and we always have the best time!  Last weekend we planned to go to Heather's mom's house for a pool party.  Of course of all days in August, it was the one that woke us up at 6:30 with crashing thunderstorms.  But luckily, the rain didn't slow us down!  We still had so much fun!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnWZ46mwI/AAAAAAAAA0k/vnxkwQV14nU/s1600-h/aug09+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371430246429661954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnWZ46mwI/AAAAAAAAA0k/vnxkwQV14nU/s400/aug09+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnV5v0LbI/AAAAAAAAA0c/SuCmqldfA_o/s1600-h/aug09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371430237801557426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnV5v0LbI/AAAAAAAAA0c/SuCmqldfA_o/s400/aug09+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It warmed up a little bit in the afternoon, so we were able to get in the pool for a bit.  Claire had cried most of the way there that she didn't want to get in the water and she was just going to wait on the side, yet who was the first to hop in???  Paige was the only one to brave the slide!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnVTZ0ZVI/AAAAAAAAA0U/ezRMVGAkot4/s1600-h/aug09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371430227508749650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnVTZ0ZVI/AAAAAAAAA0U/ezRMVGAkot4/s400/aug09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnUxRdFsI/AAAAAAAAA0M/OjnK9Olkqdk/s1600-h/aug09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371430218346862274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 325px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnUxRdFsI/AAAAAAAAA0M/OjnK9Olkqdk/s400/aug09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Thanks Heather, for always being the "glue" and always putting together our fun activities!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We love you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5046209600009872450?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5046209600009872450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5046209600009872450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5046209600009872450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5046209600009872450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/pool-party.html' title='Pool Party!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SosnWZ46mwI/AAAAAAAAA0k/vnxkwQV14nU/s72-c/aug09+009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2254692294077287178</id><published>2009-08-14T17:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T17:46:36.094-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day of Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX08o6JrLI/AAAAAAAAA0E/Xqxjs9m62vw/s1600-h/aug09+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369967453319834802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX08o6JrLI/AAAAAAAAA0E/Xqxjs9m62vw/s400/aug09+015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was our last day of summer vacation before we go back to school on Monday.  We celebrated&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX07xe8oUI/AAAAAAAAAz8/_AVp8Oc9ygs/s1600-h/aug09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369967438441783618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX07xe8oUI/AAAAAAAAAz8/_AVp8Oc9ygs/s400/aug09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by going bowling with all the McClure cousins!  Bode was a good little spectator...he really liked the flashing lights and the bright colored balls, but wasn't so sure about the loud crash of the pins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX07ggfG3I/AAAAAAAAAz0/JL0pFQhC5FU/s1600-h/aug09+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369967433884834674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX07ggfG3I/AAAAAAAAAz0/JL0pFQhC5FU/s400/aug09+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The kids had a fun time, but lost interest quickly.  So Marnie, Michelle and I filled in.  I even bowled a strike with Bode in my arms!  Of course it was while everyone else was in the arcade, so I'm sure no one believes me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX06qjcKOI/AAAAAAAAAzs/OOP-pZpcdL4/s1600-h/aug09+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369967419401709794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX06qjcKOI/AAAAAAAAAzs/OOP-pZpcdL4/s400/aug09+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing how high your score can get with the help of bumpers and a ramp.  The only problem was that the girls got so excited they would push the ramp over the line and get a foul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX06Hexg4I/AAAAAAAAAzk/-JDeB_8x7Kg/s1600-h/aug09+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369967409986896770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX06Hexg4I/AAAAAAAAAzk/-JDeB_8x7Kg/s400/aug09+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0VngY5EI/AAAAAAAAAzc/XL8dGX21eAw/s1600-h/aug09+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369966782928446530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0VngY5EI/AAAAAAAAAzc/XL8dGX21eAw/s400/aug09+014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0VO6joaI/AAAAAAAAAzU/jnGPvpXNbeU/s1600-h/aug09+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369966776327315874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0VO6joaI/AAAAAAAAAzU/jnGPvpXNbeU/s400/aug09+013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I've never thought bowling shoes were particularly stylish, but kid size ones!  They are so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0UMyIx3I/AAAAAAAAAzM/6zmW6foiom8/s1600-h/aug09+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369966758575261554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0UMyIx3I/AAAAAAAAAzM/6zmW6foiom8/s400/aug09+019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The girls were really sweet and even let Bode help them roll the ball. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0Tk0IBbI/AAAAAAAAAzE/lXuPhzF092o/s1600-h/aug09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369966747846182322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0Tk0IBbI/AAAAAAAAAzE/lXuPhzF092o/s400/aug09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The McGirl Cousins: Claire, Kendyl, Paige, Karlie &amp;amp; Addy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0TNO0PbI/AAAAAAAAAy8/eban9wzzpxQ/s1600-h/aug09+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369966741515681202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX0TNO0PbI/AAAAAAAAAy8/eban9wzzpxQ/s400/aug09+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The McBoy Cousins: Keaton, Bode &amp;amp; Jake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2254692294077287178?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2254692294077287178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2254692294077287178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2254692294077287178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2254692294077287178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/last-day-of-summer.html' title='Last Day of Summer'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoX08o6JrLI/AAAAAAAAA0E/Xqxjs9m62vw/s72-c/aug09+015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6190092414481041805</id><published>2009-08-11T16:05:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T16:26:57.118-06:00</updated><title type='text'>ThE PaRk!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yesterday we were able to spend some quality time with our cousins, Keaton and Karlie.  My sister, Marnie, had called saying she had found a fun park with a huge hill to ice block down and a skate park for scooters.  So we packed a picnic and headed out.  Once we finally found it, the hill wasn't nearly as steep as she remembered, and the skate park was full of teenagers, but we had a great time anyway.  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHuKOhG3eI/AAAAAAAAAy0/V9hWbzCqA_4/s1600-h/aug09+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368834090265402850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHuKOhG3eI/AAAAAAAAAy0/V9hWbzCqA_4/s400/aug09+014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After all the playing we did, the kids needed some cooling off, so they used each other as sprinklers.  I know laughing at this was encouraging it, but it was just so funny to see all the water come out from everyone's missing teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHuJztsSLI/AAAAAAAAAys/AcjEy7Usg6U/s1600-h/aug09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368834083070429362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHuJztsSLI/AAAAAAAAAys/AcjEy7Usg6U/s400/aug09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It turned out to be a good thing that the hill wasn't very steep.  Even with such little bums, it was hard to stay on the block of ice and a pain to push up the hill.  So we were done with that part shortly after Marnie and I pooped out of hauling the ice up the hill.  The kids found that if they had to push it up themselves, the ride wasn't that much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtyaIl4FI/AAAAAAAAAyk/58FNsk4SIS8/s1600-h/aug09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368833681066942546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtyaIl4FI/AAAAAAAAAyk/58FNsk4SIS8/s400/aug09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtxT4ja5I/AAAAAAAAAyc/8--xcB_0r2k/s1600-h/aug09+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368833662209190802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtxT4ja5I/AAAAAAAAAyc/8--xcB_0r2k/s400/aug09+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So, we moved on to scooter riding.  We didn't dare let them into the skate park, especially since the cops showed up, so they made their own skate park on the hill instead and had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtwjNNr0I/AAAAAAAAAyU/ljuUBStAt74/s1600-h/aug09+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368833649142509378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 353px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtwjNNr0I/AAAAAAAAAyU/ljuUBStAt74/s400/aug09+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtwEm2SGI/AAAAAAAAAyM/ZNScxAwwihQ/s1600-h/aug09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368833640928528482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtwEm2SGI/AAAAAAAAAyM/ZNScxAwwihQ/s400/aug09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We did head over to the playground for a little bit while Marnie and I packed up to go.  After several hours of playing hard, I'm pretty sure the kids would sleep great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtv6lCFaI/AAAAAAAAAyE/DSPW51NpYWc/s1600-h/aug09+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368833638236558754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHtv6lCFaI/AAAAAAAAAyE/DSPW51NpYWc/s400/aug09+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And to top it all off...Paige crossed the monkey bars by herself for the very first time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6190092414481041805?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6190092414481041805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6190092414481041805' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6190092414481041805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6190092414481041805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/park.html' title='ThE PaRk!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHuKOhG3eI/AAAAAAAAAy0/V9hWbzCqA_4/s72-c/aug09+014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3832860161908429916</id><published>2009-08-11T15:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T16:05:02.902-06:00</updated><title type='text'>DREAMsicle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqaDOpIjI/AAAAAAAAAx8/DzHEp7vqdCs/s1600-h/aug09+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368829964066562610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqaDOpIjI/AAAAAAAAAx8/DzHEp7vqdCs/s400/aug09+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When we went to Lagoon last week, Bode was able to experience his first taste of a creamsicle.  It was such an important part of his childhood that I had to blog it, but the pictures I got were really...bad!  So I played around with some editing software, and this is the best I got!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqZ5352mI/AAAAAAAAAx0/eyl-TjDZT3c/s1600-h/aug09+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368829961555270242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqZ5352mI/AAAAAAAAAx0/eyl-TjDZT3c/s400/aug09+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqZBTuFII/AAAAAAAAAxs/ibrj5OK-juA/s1600-h/aug09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368829946371118210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqZBTuFII/AAAAAAAAAxs/ibrj5OK-juA/s400/aug09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqYxbnfMI/AAAAAAAAAxk/gZ_0Ok7F9pI/s1600-h/aug09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368829942109273282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqYxbnfMI/AAAAAAAAAxk/gZ_0Ok7F9pI/s400/aug09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqYWLpYbI/AAAAAAAAAxc/khYnH5xz5Ho/s1600-h/aug09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368829934794531250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqYWLpYbI/AAAAAAAAAxc/khYnH5xz5Ho/s400/aug09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pics may be a little off...but he sure enjoyed himself!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-3832860161908429916?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3832860161908429916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3832860161908429916' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3832860161908429916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3832860161908429916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/dreamsicle.html' title='DREAMsicle'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SoHqaDOpIjI/AAAAAAAAAx8/DzHEp7vqdCs/s72-c/aug09+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7346589175205411331</id><published>2009-08-04T14:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T14:47:37.414-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day at the Pool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicO9YKvII/AAAAAAAAAw4/ZqlML-GVSkM/s1600-h/aug09+039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366210736819977346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicO9YKvII/AAAAAAAAAw4/ZqlML-GVSkM/s400/aug09+039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My sister Michelle is fortunate enough to have a community pool just down the street from her house.  Their family is there nearly every day, and they always invite us to come, but considering both of our crazy schedules and the fact that she lives in Eagle Mountain, yesterday was the first day this summer we have gone out to swim!  I also had my sister Marnie's kids with me, so it was a great chance for all the cousins to play.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicOfykobI/AAAAAAAAAww/bzXJYjnh8hQ/s1600-h/aug09+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366210728877662642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicOfykobI/AAAAAAAAAww/bzXJYjnh8hQ/s400/aug09+027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think Bode was really the hit of the party!  The pool is beach entry, so for the longest time, he was thrilled just to sit at the edge, letting the water run up over his legs and splashing.  But the girls were dying to put him in his floatie and asked about every four minutes if they could take him in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicNqR8loI/AAAAAAAAAwo/lcc4eYbHqSg/s1600-h/aug09+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366210714513741442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicNqR8loI/AAAAAAAAAwo/lcc4eYbHqSg/s400/aug09+024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bode wasn't the only one to take a floatie there.  Claire is really quite a good swimmer, I think the duck was more for playing with than a floatation device, but what's a mom to do?  Tell her to NOT be overly safe??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicMy82_-I/AAAAAAAAAwg/9je25vjA0r0/s1600-h/aug09+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366210699661344738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicMy82_-I/AAAAAAAAAwg/9je25vjA0r0/s400/aug09+018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My cute niece Kendyl was so sweet to entertain everyone in the pool.  Paige was the only one brave enough to let Kendyl throw her in the air, practicing flips and belly flops and Bode seemed content to let her push him all around the pool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicLzNZxtI/AAAAAAAAAwY/tRLlkU9nXdM/s1600-h/aug09+038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366210682550863570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicLzNZxtI/AAAAAAAAAwY/tRLlkU9nXdM/s400/aug09+038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think anyone can tell by the smiles that is was a good day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7346589175205411331?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7346589175205411331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7346589175205411331' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7346589175205411331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7346589175205411331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-at-pool.html' title='A Day at the Pool'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnicO9YKvII/AAAAAAAAAw4/ZqlML-GVSkM/s72-c/aug09+039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2477386163939197113</id><published>2009-07-31T15:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T16:59:21.503-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Silver Lake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnN3Jb3pUiI/AAAAAAAAAvo/YKOMZG0YO7k/s1600-h/DSCN1599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364762585112072738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnN3Jb3pUiI/AAAAAAAAAvo/YKOMZG0YO7k/s400/DSCN1599.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One of our family's favorite Sunday afternoon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;past times&lt;/span&gt; is to go up to Silver Lake at Brighton ski resort. The kids love to look for animals to feed and we love that the temperature is so much cooler up there! Paige had the idea to go up after church one Sunday and we invited our friends, David and Heather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Doman&lt;/span&gt;, to come with us. We have known them since we moved in, but never gotten together. It was so fun to get to know them. Later that week, we got an email from Steve's brother inviting us there for a picnic the following Sunday. Of course, it didn't take much convincing to go up again! (Just a lot more bug spray!!)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNncpg_WDI/AAAAAAAAAvg/3vq1qR3H3ew/s1600-h/DSCN1602.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364745323006613554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNncpg_WDI/AAAAAAAAAvg/3vq1qR3H3ew/s400/DSCN1602.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNncQhylPI/AAAAAAAAAvY/qlYAHDVnWEE/s1600-h/july09+062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364745316299085042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNncQhylPI/AAAAAAAAAvY/qlYAHDVnWEE/s400/july09+062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While the girls and I went around the lake with our cousins. Little Bode was able to stay back with daddy and his Aunties to be snuggled. No one seemed to mind taking a turn to hold him! Especially Aunt Valerie, who just kept saying, "Brady is going to have so much fun with him when he gets home!" (Just over 4 months left!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNnbyxKF3I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/8ZxX269AYDg/s1600-h/DSCN1608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364745308310476658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNnbyxKF3I/AAAAAAAAAvQ/8ZxX269AYDg/s400/DSCN1608.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNnbqa0J5I/AAAAAAAAAvI/arAV-tZ4dBY/s1600-h/july09+066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364745306069280658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNnbqa0J5I/AAAAAAAAAvI/arAV-tZ4dBY/s400/july09+066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige and Claire had a great time with Paige's "twin cousin" Katherine and the "big girls", Victoria, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tavia&lt;/span&gt; and Tessa. They climbed up giant rocks and hid bread crumbs in squirrel holes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNnbOIIVPI/AAAAAAAAAvA/irUPG83r2qs/s1600-h/july09+047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364745298474718450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNnbOIIVPI/AAAAAAAAAvA/irUPG83r2qs/s400/july09+047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlZtwXOFI/AAAAAAAAAu4/3f7DkIaNjFY/s1600-h/july09+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364743073581971538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlZtwXOFI/AAAAAAAAAu4/3f7DkIaNjFY/s400/july09+041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlZLHkHQI/AAAAAAAAAuw/8mUg4kmqPpo/s1600-h/july09+034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364743064284044546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlZLHkHQI/AAAAAAAAAuw/8mUg4kmqPpo/s400/july09+034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We totally scored on our first trip and were able to find 2 sets of baby ducks for the girls to feed stale hot dogs buns to. However, we couldn't find them the following week. But look how cute they were!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlYoOdWNI/AAAAAAAAAuo/SKwa455kWp8/s1600-h/july09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364743054917720274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlYoOdWNI/AAAAAAAAAuo/SKwa455kWp8/s400/july09+032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlYKqn9vI/AAAAAAAAAug/Q935L-Rf3IM/s1600-h/DSCN1611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364743046982792946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnNlYKqn9vI/AAAAAAAAAug/Q935L-Rf3IM/s400/DSCN1611.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a great time eating yummy pulled pork sandwiches and homemade ice cream. And of course visiting for hours on end while the kids ran themselves wild!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2477386163939197113?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2477386163939197113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2477386163939197113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2477386163939197113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2477386163939197113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/07/silver-lake.html' title='Silver Lake'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SnN3Jb3pUiI/AAAAAAAAAvo/YKOMZG0YO7k/s72-c/DSCN1599.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1780598342905848194</id><published>2009-07-27T18:47:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T19:03:35.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tepanyaki</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5Luef1qjI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/TAm1CqwnwOo/s1600-h/july09+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363307468077509170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5Luef1qjI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/TAm1CqwnwOo/s400/july09+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We seriously have the funnest neighbors ever!  Since the day we moved in, Steve hit it off with our next-door neighbor Brandon.  We spend almost every evening chatting in the driveway while the kids play and this summer, their little boy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Maihson&lt;/span&gt; and the girls have become &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inseparable&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LLMVU7BI/AAAAAAAAAuI/Y3BRDALSsAE/s1600-h/july09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363306861906160658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LLMVU7BI/AAAAAAAAAuI/Y3BRDALSsAE/s400/july09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Over the weekend, they invited us to join them at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tepanyaki&lt;/span&gt; for dinner.  Now we have been there before, and knowing our girls, vowed NEVER to take them to a place like that.  But it was dinnertime, of COURSE Steve and I wanted to eat there, and we really didn't want to deal with the girls whining until the Browns got back, and we had a coupon...so we did it!  I was shocked at how great the kids were!  We had told them there would be a show, and Paige kept asking me when they were going to start the movie, but seemed thoroughly entertained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LKpHKyFI/AAAAAAAAAuA/f2L9xnFjnAs/s1600-h/july09+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363306852451534930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LKpHKyFI/AAAAAAAAAuA/f2L9xnFjnAs/s400/july09+012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LKbOgd5I/AAAAAAAAAt4/DEiL8GUFNAY/s1600-h/july09+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363306848724219794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LKbOgd5I/AAAAAAAAAt4/DEiL8GUFNAY/s400/july09+017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The place was deserted!  It wasn't until we were almost done that another family walked in.  There were lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ohhs&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ahhs&lt;/span&gt; as our chef flipped raw eggs around on his spatula and made "fire" on the tabletop.  I knew the girls would love the onion volcano, but what I wasn't planning on was them loving the food.  My girls??  The picky ones???  I simply ordered a larger meal than usual with extra noodles to share with them and they chowed down!  Both girls finished their fried rice, Paige took over my soup, and both girls went crazy over the steak!  I even got Claire to eat a piece of zucchini.  (Only one piece, but a piece just the same!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LJ90XdwI/AAAAAAAAAtw/ZHSGluyGJ_A/s1600-h/july09+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363306840829949698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LJ90XdwI/AAAAAAAAAtw/ZHSGluyGJ_A/s400/july09+019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think aside from the awesome company and the yummy food, the best part of the night was Paige's comment, "We should &lt;strong&gt;totally&lt;/strong&gt; come here more often!"  I think we will!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LJlyi4gI/AAAAAAAAAto/7QTs3F7R6EA/s1600-h/july09+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363306834379858434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5LJlyi4gI/AAAAAAAAAto/7QTs3F7R6EA/s400/july09+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thanks Brandon, Chasity, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Maihson&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Addysen&lt;/span&gt; for a fun night!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1780598342905848194?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1780598342905848194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1780598342905848194' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1780598342905848194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1780598342905848194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/07/tepanyaki.html' title='Tepanyaki'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5Luef1qjI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/TAm1CqwnwOo/s72-c/july09+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6708618586178296294</id><published>2009-07-27T18:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T18:43:08.163-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Snaggletooth No More!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5IAnpH93I/AAAAAAAAAtg/VpTAtV1tHj4/s1600-h/july09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363303381723510642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5IAnpH93I/AAAAAAAAAtg/VpTAtV1tHj4/s400/july09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the snaggletooth smile we have seen at our house for the past several weeks.  No matter what I bribe her with, Paige is not willing to let this tooth go!  She seems to think it is cute to poke the crooked little thing out of her lip, or whistle and watch it sway in the wind.  Short of sitting on her again, I have tried EVERYTHING!!  I have even tried to pull it in her sleep, and got smacked!  Finally today, I just couldn't stand to look at it anymore.  I told her it had to come out today, or I would call the dentist to pull it out and that came with shots!  She poutedly retreated to her room and came back with a hand-drawn diagram of her "plan".  She planned to tie dental floss to her tooth and the other end to the Polly Pocket limo.  Claire would dress 2 Polly's for the prom, put them in the limo, and drive it away, pulling out the tooth.  She got out the Pollys, hooked up the floss with double knots, and chickened out.  She came to me with the scissors, crying, begging me to remove the floss from her tooth.  With a quick yank, I popped out the floss and the tooth came with it!!  (Lucky me, she would have killed me if my trick hadn't worked!)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5IAZQaYJI/AAAAAAAAAtY/V2JuSzULrVw/s1600-h/july09+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363303377861763218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5IAZQaYJI/AAAAAAAAAtY/V2JuSzULrVw/s400/july09+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But look what a happier, cuter girl it left behind!!  Now, if only the ATM would give out ones....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6708618586178296294?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6708618586178296294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6708618586178296294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6708618586178296294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6708618586178296294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/07/snaggletooth-no-more.html' title='A Snaggletooth No More!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sm5IAnpH93I/AAAAAAAAAtg/VpTAtV1tHj4/s72-c/july09+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4661427139412668953</id><published>2009-07-23T14:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T14:06:47.590-06:00</updated><title type='text'>drinking buddies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SmjCC1fy40I/AAAAAAAAAtQ/Q1ug0q3NbqE/s1600-h/june09+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361748710360539970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SmjCC1fy40I/AAAAAAAAAtQ/Q1ug0q3NbqE/s400/june09+013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't understand the obsession...but lately the girls are ALWAYS wanting to pretend they are babies and drink out of bottles.  I have always said no...I don't need MORE dishes to do, but this particular day I caved.  They were so excited to share a drink of juice together, but both girls remarked how slow the juice came out, so maybe they won't ask again! &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/2839229465856949694-4661427139412668953?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4661427139412668953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4661427139412668953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4661427139412668953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4661427139412668953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/07/drinking-buddies.html' title='drinking buddies'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SmjCC1fy40I/AAAAAAAAAtQ/Q1ug0q3NbqE/s72-c/june09+013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6008837883917012776</id><published>2009-07-14T04:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T04:33:08.355-06:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July Tradition</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know it is terribly "un-patriotic", but when my kids hear 4th of July, they instantly think of hot air balloons. This has been a tradition Steve and I started when Claire was just a baby. It is a VERY early morning, but worth it to see the magic in the kids' faces. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Slxctp_ZvxI/AAAAAAAAAtI/bpyyDq7JLdo/s1600-h/june09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358259596099698450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Slxctp_ZvxI/AAAAAAAAAtI/bpyyDq7JLdo/s400/june09+032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It doesn't matter how many times we see them, every year is so exciting to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxctGn4tTI/AAAAAAAAAtA/8UXurzYpUSE/s1600-h/june09+021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358259586605823282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxctGn4tTI/AAAAAAAAAtA/8UXurzYpUSE/s400/june09+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Of course, this being Bode's first time, he didn't really seem to care. He looked at them a little bit, and jumped when they shot the fire in to blow them up, but other than that he was just happy to be along for the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxcsmnL23I/AAAAAAAAAs4/N_w9ISJgJ9U/s1600-h/june09+035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358259578012949362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxcsmnL23I/AAAAAAAAAs4/N_w9ISJgJ9U/s400/june09+035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Among our favorites were, the piggy bank (every year!), Smokey the Bear and this year a new balloon, Tony the Tiger! In talking to the Frosted Flakes guy, rumor has it that next year will bring Mickey Mouse! I'm voting for the Coke bottle, but this &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Provo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxcsJmmkpI/AAAAAAAAAsw/4mULV4iZfn0/s1600-h/june09+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358259570225877650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxcsJmmkpI/AAAAAAAAAsw/4mULV4iZfn0/s400/june09+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even though it is painfully early, the sunrise is breath-taking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxcrHDqvlI/AAAAAAAAAso/nvi3yofp6P0/s1600-h/june09+029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358259552362610258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlxcrHDqvlI/AAAAAAAAAso/nvi3yofp6P0/s400/june09+029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And the best part...Krispy Kreme has hot donuts on the way home! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6008837883917012776?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6008837883917012776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6008837883917012776' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6008837883917012776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6008837883917012776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/07/4th-of-july-tradition.html' title='4th of July Tradition'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Slxctp_ZvxI/AAAAAAAAAtI/bpyyDq7JLdo/s72-c/june09+032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1096684422769970856</id><published>2009-07-05T17:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T17:47:04.636-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tooth, the Whole Tooth, and Nothing But the Tooth...SO HELP ME!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In preschool last year, Paige lost her first two teeth on the bottom without a problem, so when a few more got loose this Spring, I didn't panic.  Who knew the drama that was ahead?  One on the bottom right became a little bit loose and out of NOWHERE in the 3 hours she was at school one day, her top left tooth became ready-to-fall-out loose.  It dangled there for weeks.  She would wiggle the teeth with her tongue, blow air and whistle through the top one, but refused to pull them.  She had done it before...what was the big deal??  It got to the point where I tried to pull them in her sleep, she busted me a few times before I gave that up.  I tried bribing her with money, milk shakes, etc....to no avail.  Then I put her in the bathtub with Bode.  As they were playing, Bode tried to remove her nose, to which we all cheered, "Not her nose...get the tooth!"  In an attempt to be funny, Paige punched herself (not hard) in the mouth, to show Bode how to "get her" and knocked out the bottom tooth.  Weeks later, that top tooth was still hanging by a thread, but by this point she was crying about it non-stop.  She still wanted it to fall out by itself, but her little gums were red and swollen trying to push it out and she couldn't eat.  Finally, tired of the whining, I pinned her to the ground (don't judge me, it wasn't &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; abusive) and pulled the thing out.  It hardly took any effort, but she was &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; happy.  She cried for about an hour saying that she looked hideous and wanted it back in.  That being said, this picture is from a few days later, after she has healed from the trauma.  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3PpeYalI/AAAAAAAAAsg/Rl-rS8exkFc/s1600-h/june09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355122173891078738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3PpeYalI/AAAAAAAAAsg/Rl-rS8exkFc/s400/june09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She was thrilled to see that the tooth fairy had come and left her a dollar, and more importantly read her note begging her to leave the tooth, which she did.  She came running in to our room that first morning, where Claire was dead asleep, frantically waving her dollar.  Claire sat straight up yelling, "You got money??"  Paige actually forgot about the second tooth for a few nights, but finally found that second dollar.  By then it must have been old hat because she just casually checked her pillow after I had mentioned it a few times.  However, when she removed her dollar from her tooth fairy box, she handed it to Claire, saying it was for her since she already had one.   See...sometimes they can be sweet to each other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3PVjjwNI/AAAAAAAAAsY/PiEA-K7hwV4/s1600-h/june09+042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355122168544084178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3PVjjwNI/AAAAAAAAAsY/PiEA-K7hwV4/s400/june09+042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So as Paige is loosing her teeth...Bode has been gaining his.  It's hard to believe his are coming in so late compared to the girls, but my dentist has told me the longer they stay in the gums, the healthier they will be.  So, here's to no cavities ever!!  He has been so great through all of it too.  I mean really, does this look like the face of a teething baby??  &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3O6LC38I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/WCfriBARnhw/s1600-h/june09+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355122161193508802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3O6LC38I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/WCfriBARnhw/s400/june09+045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So, for the record...Bode, first tooth, bottom right, June 24.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Second white nubbin coming in soon on the left. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1096684422769970856?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1096684422769970856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1096684422769970856' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1096684422769970856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1096684422769970856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/07/tooth-whole-tooth-and-nothing-but.html' title='The Tooth, the Whole Tooth, and Nothing But the Tooth...SO HELP ME!!!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SlE3PpeYalI/AAAAAAAAAsg/Rl-rS8exkFc/s72-c/june09+004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3276812796567687165</id><published>2009-06-24T16:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T16:54:43.257-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No pain, no gain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtsdi5F4I/AAAAAAAAAsI/gRB8XSRx7bA/s1600-h/june09+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351030286626396034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtsdi5F4I/AAAAAAAAAsI/gRB8XSRx7bA/s400/june09+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One of my favorite memories from my childhood was the special occasions when my mom would let me sit on the bathroom counter while she got me ready.  Poor Claire did NOT love wearing curlers, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; since we had to do it 3 TIMES for this last dance recital.  But wearing mommy's makeup seemed to alleviate the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtsGqIPRI/AAAAAAAAAsA/7k-ms6H_FQE/s1600-h/june09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351030280482733330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtsGqIPRI/AAAAAAAAAsA/7k-ms6H_FQE/s400/june09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtrzlJYxI/AAAAAAAAAr4/AAYje25Tj_Y/s1600-h/june09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351030275361563410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtrzlJYxI/AAAAAAAAAr4/AAYje25Tj_Y/s400/june09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige lucked out in not having to do the curlers, but for her buns were equally as bad.  She started pulling them out the second we would get in the car.  Although, she is smart enough to recognize how gorgeous she looks with makeup on.  Look at those eyes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtrVABG4I/AAAAAAAAArw/Muy304LURZo/s1600-h/june09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351030267152767874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtrVABG4I/AAAAAAAAArw/Muy304LURZo/s400/june09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Heather...this one's for you!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-3276812796567687165?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3276812796567687165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3276812796567687165' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3276812796567687165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3276812796567687165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-pain-no-gain.html' title='No pain, no gain'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SkKtsdi5F4I/AAAAAAAAAsI/gRB8XSRx7bA/s72-c/june09+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2151509013897257772</id><published>2009-06-17T14:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T14:30:36.231-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjlRC_spBgI/AAAAAAAAAro/txRDk7MfYAk/s1600-h/may2009+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348395144379434498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjlRC_spBgI/AAAAAAAAAro/txRDk7MfYAk/s400/may2009+058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My little guy is just growing too fast!  I can't believe he has been in our family for eight months already!  He continues to be the happiest baby ever, loving every minute of life.  He is easily entertained by his sisters, particularly by pulling on their hair or listening to Paige's burps.  He is loving eating solid foods (and by that I mean Gerber jars) and he finally sleeps all night! (On his stomach...like mother, like son!)  He is not crawling yet, but rolls pretty darn fast.  He is starting to babble, mostly da..da..da.  Steve likes to think he is talking about him, but I beg to differ.  And the most grown-up thing he is doing lately...growing a tooth!  I can see the little nubbin trying to poke through on the bottom.   Still lovin' you, son!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjlRCSyC7JI/AAAAAAAAArg/Hyn4Be3oHnk/s1600-h/may2009+056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348395132322507922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjlRCSyC7JI/AAAAAAAAArg/Hyn4Be3oHnk/s400/may2009+056.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Bode's first real experience on the grass...loved it!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2151509013897257772?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2151509013897257772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2151509013897257772' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2151509013897257772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2151509013897257772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/eight-months.html' title='Eight Months'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjlRC_spBgI/AAAAAAAAAro/txRDk7MfYAk/s72-c/may2009+058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-505268616469170839</id><published>2009-06-15T13:51:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T13:59:12.300-06:00</updated><title type='text'>STRUCK!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sjant48R5rI/AAAAAAAAArY/Irrcf07GHgA/s1600-h/june09+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347646014370211506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sjant48R5rI/AAAAAAAAArY/Irrcf07GHgA/s400/june09+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;poor Moroni, standing tall in the rain and struck by lightning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjamgP22BiI/AAAAAAAAArQ/rVCxuBe8w8Y/s1600-h/june09+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347644680491632162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjamgP22BiI/AAAAAAAAArQ/rVCxuBe8w8Y/s400/june09+015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This has been such an amazing year for the LDS church to have 2 brand new temples here in the Utah Valley. We are so blessed to be able to see both the Draper Temple and the new Oquirrh Mountain Temple from our backyard. These are both such beautiful buildings, so imagine our surprise to hear in church yesterday that the Angel Moroni had been STRUCK BY LIGHTNING! It happened Saturday afternoon, during another one of our crazy June rainstorms. Luckily no one was hurt, except Moroni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjamfzdvzpI/AAAAAAAAArI/VHS_bu-lmWY/s1600-h/june09+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347644672870174354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjamfzdvzpI/AAAAAAAAArI/VHS_bu-lmWY/s400/june09+014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We rushed right over after church to verify for ourselves, and it was true!! You can see his burnt arm, trumpet and face.  I guess we need to pay a little bit more tithing to cover the damage! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-505268616469170839?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/505268616469170839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=505268616469170839' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/505268616469170839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/505268616469170839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/struck.html' title='STRUCK!!!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sjant48R5rI/AAAAAAAAArY/Irrcf07GHgA/s72-c/june09+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7454026689132535014</id><published>2009-06-10T15:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T16:12:29.842-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancin' In The Rain...AGAIN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I truly LOVE dance recitals.  There is just something about the girls' smiles...so excited to see themselves all dressed up with makeup and curls.  And to see them dance on stage brings tears to my eyes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;everytime&lt;/span&gt;...I am just so proud of their accomplishments.  Steve and I would do almost &lt;strong&gt;anything&lt;/strong&gt; to see it.  That became apparent this last week.  Our recital was scheduled at the Sandy Amphitheater last Monday.  Less than halfway through, it began to &lt;strong&gt;POUR, &lt;/strong&gt;and I mean POUR!!  They tried to go on, and sadly called the show just as Paige was walking on stage.  So there we sat, drenched and cold for 30 minutes waiting for it to stop, which it didn't.  Steve took Bode and his dripping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; up to the car to try and dry out while I went backstage to look for our girls.  Both had smeared mascara down their cheeks from crying, shredded tights and soaked ballet shoes.  Paige's first response was, "Do I still get my roses from Daddy?"&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsa9mAVcI/AAAAAAAAAq4/U7JbrDvnE_w/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345821599410968002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsa9mAVcI/AAAAAAAAAq4/U7JbrDvnE_w/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Claire before the show&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsarnF1WI/AAAAAAAAAqw/HZ78ac5h0t4/s1600-h/may2009+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345821594583684450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsarnF1WI/AAAAAAAAAqw/HZ78ac5h0t4/s400/may2009+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Paige before the show&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I swear she posed this way herself!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsadhYlUI/AAAAAAAAAqo/TkX8gaY0-xw/s1600-h/may2009+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345821590801651010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsadhYlUI/AAAAAAAAAqo/TkX8gaY0-xw/s400/may2009+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Our dancers &lt;strong&gt;before&lt;/strong&gt; the monsoon!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsZ6UXihI/AAAAAAAAAqg/IilM6KOElRY/s1600-h/may2009+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345821581351815698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsZ6UXihI/AAAAAAAAAqg/IilM6KOElRY/s400/may2009+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;See the waterfall?  &lt;strong&gt;NOTHING&lt;/strong&gt; compared to the rain that came later!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And so the recital was rescheduled for last night.  Steve went straight from work to save seats and I brought the girls a little bit later.  It started to rain as I pulled out of the driveway, but Steve assured me the sun was shining at the theater.   As I got off the freeway, the rain turned into HAIL!!  The pounding lulled Claire to sleep, but Paige was terrified that it would tear through our roof, it was that loud!  We waited in the parking lot until the last possible second and then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hustled&lt;/span&gt; the girls backstage so they could stay dry.  Steve, Bode and I spent the next 2 hours sitting through the drizzle to see our "Cuban Pete" and "Beautiful Doll" perform.  And despite our wet clothes and shriveled wet fingers, they made it all worth it!!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7454026689132535014?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7454026689132535014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7454026689132535014' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7454026689132535014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7454026689132535014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/dancin-in-rainagain.html' title='Dancin&apos; In The Rain...AGAIN!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SjAsa9mAVcI/AAAAAAAAAq4/U7JbrDvnE_w/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1174486535892972563</id><published>2009-06-08T15:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T16:04:03.778-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile...dangit!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This week at school, Paige was named Star Student of the Week.  This involved preparing a poster about yourself, complete with family picture.  Sadly, this brought to the realization that we have not had a single full family shot since Bode was born.  So after church yesterday, while we were still looking somewhat nice, we sat on the couch together and experimented with the self-timer on our camera.  By the end of about two minutes we started getting, " I will not sit by her" and "She touched me!"  This, combined with the fact that we were all cranky after 3 hours of church and all wondering what was for dinner, made for a LOVELY family photo.  After several tries...this is the best we can come up with.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Si2Jwq5I9ZI/AAAAAAAAAqY/t4eB0LTVO9A/s1600-h/june09+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345079801999324562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Si2Jwq5I9ZI/AAAAAAAAAqY/t4eB0LTVO9A/s400/june09+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;The super happy Vincent family&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1174486535892972563?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1174486535892972563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1174486535892972563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1174486535892972563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1174486535892972563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/smiledangit.html' title='Smile...dangit!!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Si2Jwq5I9ZI/AAAAAAAAAqY/t4eB0LTVO9A/s72-c/june09+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7020031294315965236</id><published>2009-06-05T13:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T19:43:45.321-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bees!</title><content type='html'>Last weekend we went to the Bees game with our friends, the Andersens.  The girls see the airplane flying around town advertising every game night and beg to go.  Once we found out there were fireworks, we were on it!!  The girls had a great time riding the train and rolling down the hill.  Kade and Bode enjoyed bottles together.  At one point in the game, Kade started screeching at the electronic scoreboard, which scared Bode to death, so Kade patted Bode's back until he calmed down.  Then it became a fun game for Kade to do over and over...they are going to become such good friends!  The game was long and kind of boring, but the fireworks at the end were AMAZING!!  By far the best we've seen all year!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5knjeN_I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/sGI5m9MoD80/s1600-h/may2009+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343936102851819506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5knjeN_I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/sGI5m9MoD80/s400/may2009+017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5kG0gPRI/AAAAAAAAAqI/aitERAYkMig/s1600-h/may2009+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343936094064885010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5kG0gPRI/AAAAAAAAAqI/aitERAYkMig/s400/may2009+022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5jyAceUI/AAAAAAAAAqA/nWLn_xB7DkI/s1600-h/may2009+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343936088477825346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5jyAceUI/AAAAAAAAAqA/nWLn_xB7DkI/s400/may2009+023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5jj4qu1I/AAAAAAAAAp4/BDxOcGFF_UY/s1600-h/may2009+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343936084687108946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5jj4qu1I/AAAAAAAAAp4/BDxOcGFF_UY/s400/may2009+024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7020031294315965236?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7020031294315965236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7020031294315965236' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7020031294315965236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7020031294315965236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/bees.html' title='The Bees!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil5knjeN_I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/sGI5m9MoD80/s72-c/may2009+017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5039337958247790485</id><published>2009-06-05T13:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T13:57:43.998-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer Star</title><content type='html'>This Spring we got a phone call from a neighbor putting together a 4 year old soccer team, looking for girls.  Claire said she wanted to try it out, but really Steve and I wanted a chance to meet more people from the ward.  So we signed her up!  It has turned out to be really fun.  There are 13 neighborhood kids on the team, coached by two men in our ward.  Claire is quite the kicker and can outrun most of the team, but can't quite grasp the concept of taking the ball from the opposing team.  She has yet to score a goal, and our team has yet to win a game, but they are having a ball!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil3sHND4uI/AAAAAAAAApw/wTGjMlLH5LU/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343934032583582434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil3sHND4uI/AAAAAAAAApw/wTGjMlLH5LU/s400/030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil3r8aVVPI/AAAAAAAAApo/-hmTU6a3wAM/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343934029686461682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil3r8aVVPI/AAAAAAAAApo/-hmTU6a3wAM/s400/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5039337958247790485?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5039337958247790485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5039337958247790485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5039337958247790485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5039337958247790485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/06/soccer-star.html' title='Soccer Star'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sil3sHND4uI/AAAAAAAAApw/wTGjMlLH5LU/s72-c/030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-9188528012475777241</id><published>2009-05-20T23:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:42:09.210-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmEyC5P7I/AAAAAAAAApg/leUbUguU3do/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338144428168658866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmEyC5P7I/AAAAAAAAApg/leUbUguU3do/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mother's Day is always a time of reflection for me.  Of course, like always, it makes me think of my own mother and what an amazing person she was (and still &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt;, on the other side!)  Why is it though that a day meant to celebrate Mother's makes me feel inadequate?  As I sat with my family in Sacrament, listening to grown men talk about how fantastic their childhoods were, it made me wonder, What will my kids have to say about me 20 years from now?  So I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;suppose&lt;/span&gt;, Mother's Day for me this year was a wake up call to focus more on enjoying the journey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmElYvEBI/AAAAAAAAApY/Z_wmnDUXIZo/s1600-h/scan0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338144424770605074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmElYvEBI/AAAAAAAAApY/Z_wmnDUXIZo/s400/scan0009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 2005-This was my first Mother's Day as a mother of two!  I remember this being right after my girlfriend Heather got married, so we all wore our matching wedding outfits to church.  (You can't tell from the pic, but I am wearing one of the 10 hot pink skirts made for the wedding...love you Heather, but why did you have to have so many friends??)  And, not wanting scrap fabric to go to waste, I whipped up matching dresses for the girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmERtQFCI/AAAAAAAAApQ/a6tZ7e1TMag/s1600-h/scan0008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338144419487945762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmERtQFCI/AAAAAAAAApQ/a6tZ7e1TMag/s400/scan0008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 2003-My first Mother's Day ever!!  It came as no surprise that Steve was traveling that day, so Paige and I went to church with my mom.  I remember it being such a great day!!  She and I sat and giggled and played with Paige all through Sacrament.  Instead of a gift, her ward cancelled Relief Society and served all the ladies Marie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Callendar's&lt;/span&gt; pies and let us sit and visit.  Mom was so proud to show off her new grand-daughter and it was so fun to reminisce with old friends.  Who would have known this would be my last one with her?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-9188528012475777241?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/9188528012475777241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=9188528012475777241' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/9188528012475777241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/9188528012475777241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTmEyC5P7I/AAAAAAAAApg/leUbUguU3do/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6046242442164580465</id><published>2009-05-20T22:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:18:27.501-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess Who...is eating solids??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTh2jxO7yI/AAAAAAAAApI/KakW9smR0J4/s1600-h/Collage14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338139785771806498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTh2jxO7yI/AAAAAAAAApI/KakW9smR0J4/s400/Collage14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Little Bode has finally decided that he likes food.  I tried rice cereal several times, but he was not interested.  Finally, in desperation to get the girls to each eat ONE green bean, I pulled out the baby food jar to show them that even their baby brother could do it.  And he CHOWED!!  It seemed a little thick still, so I mixed it with some rice cereal and water, and he loves it!  Another strange thing happened that night...he slept!  I went to work and Steve didn't get up with him once in the night.  I guess the poor kid was starving.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The girls have really had a blast putting two types of food on his tray and letting Bode "pick" his dinner.  Of course they are both dying to feed him too, but it is such a slow and messy process to let them help, I just don't have the patience.  So far, he has eaten: green beans, peas, carrots, sweet potatoes and squash.  At my dad's last Sunday, we tried to give him pears.  It was hilarious...he would make sour faces, gag and dry heave, which would make his entire audience laugh...so he would smile.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Seeing Bode in the all familiar highchair brings back 6 years of baby feeding memories for me.  We are getting very differing opinions of who Bode looks like, so I have put together this comparison.  The big picture on the right is of course, the man in question.  To the left are the big sisters...around the same age, about the same goo being fed to them, and of course, the same high chair.  (What's funny is that they are all in different houses!)  Paige is the top baby and Claire is the bottom.  I just don't know, I kind of see both the girls in him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6046242442164580465?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6046242442164580465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6046242442164580465' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6046242442164580465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6046242442164580465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/05/guess-whois-eating-solids.html' title='Guess Who...is eating solids??'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ShTh2jxO7yI/AAAAAAAAApI/KakW9smR0J4/s72-c/Collage14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-9106716447865180116</id><published>2009-05-06T16:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T16:32:13.485-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Guy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIMkqrZLrI/AAAAAAAAApA/itiAoWhWDrw/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332838732831207090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIMkqrZLrI/AAAAAAAAApA/itiAoWhWDrw/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My poor little monkey has had one heck of a month! It all started while my dad was in the hospital, I made the mistake of taking Bode with me into the ICU, where viruses germinate like rabbits! So, copay #1 to find out his nasty cough was CROUP. A week later, I found him clawing at his ears, so another $25 to find 2 nasty ear infections. Then of course came his six month check-up. All was well with him...15 lbs. 5 oz. and 27"...but I took Claire along since the night before she had asked in tears to leave Grandma and Grandpa's Easter party early because her ear hurt. Another ear infection. And then last week, I took the kids to Target for Easter pictures. I thought Bo seemed a little warm, but chalked it up to teething. But when he refused to smile and did nothing but cry, I knew that was not my little guy. Another 25 bones to reveal...none else but another ear infection!! This time he was terribly wheezy, so they gave him a breathing treatment to help. I love our doctor, but am not loving our visits this frequently. In one of our visits he commented on my wild hot-pink cow purse and told me how much his wife loved designer bags like Louis Vittan and Dooney &amp;amp; Bourke. It's a good thing, because I just singlehandedly BOUGHT HER ONE!! But he's worth it...Love you Bode! So glad you are feeling better. We have missed your sweet giggles and smiles!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-9106716447865180116?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/9106716447865180116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=9106716447865180116' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/9106716447865180116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/9106716447865180116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/05/poor-guy.html' title='Poor Guy!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIMkqrZLrI/AAAAAAAAApA/itiAoWhWDrw/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6298589526521659778</id><published>2009-05-06T15:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T16:11:47.715-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Project: Organization!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbXtsqRI/AAAAAAAAAo4/d5275dJBXeo/s1600-h/038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332834175075264786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbXtsqRI/AAAAAAAAAo4/d5275dJBXeo/s400/038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The girls' closet is a DISASTER!!  When we moved in, all rooms were painted, one girly bedroom and one masculine bedroom.  Being largely pregnant and not wanting to take on another task, I moved the girls into the purple girly bedroom.  Sadly, it was the one with the smallest closet.  Despite my great plans of having a playroom downstairs, all toys seem to migrate to this spot.  Notice the large chunk of empty, wasted space between the "pile" and the clothing rod.  So, I devised a plan to install shelves in half of the closet.  My plans, of course, involved my dad's help, but his pancreas disagreed and left me to wait it out or do it myself.  Those who know me know I went with the obvious choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbBqDV-I/AAAAAAAAAow/oqmDUOVPHqE/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332834169154394082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbBqDV-I/AAAAAAAAAow/oqmDUOVPHqE/s400/039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I carefully measured, drew out plans and had all my supplies cut and prepared.  However, with my schedule, the project had to go in phases.  All supplies were moved into the girls' bedroom before I left for work one night.  I got a sad phone call shortly after arriving that "someone" had written me a message of "I love you" on one of the shelving boards.  I was so touched by it, that I told Paige it was ok and she could leave her message.  Apparently she took that as, write all over it because this is what I came home to the next day.  Eh...kind of cute, and although you can't see it, they signed their names and somewhere on there they wrote that they have the best mom ever.  Who could be mad at that?  And so started the bottom shelf...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbN5orWI/AAAAAAAAAoo/Cf0OuUKReMU/s1600-h/043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332834172440980834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbN5orWI/AAAAAAAAAoo/Cf0OuUKReMU/s400/043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; TA-DA!!!  How much better is that??  I found these awesome rolling bins at Target and measured my shelves to fit them exactly.  The girls went through and divided toys into a "hard-toy bin", "a soft-toy bin", and a "snuggling-toy/Webkins bin".  There is extra room on the side for bigger things like Polly Pocket cruise ships and giant My Little Pony birthday cakes, and still room for hanging shorter things on the rod like skirts and sweaters.  I just could not be more pleased!!  But don't tell Steve, it kind of puts me in the mood for an entire girls' bedroom remodel! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6298589526521659778?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6298589526521659778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6298589526521659778' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6298589526521659778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6298589526521659778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/05/project-organization.html' title='Project: Organization!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SgIIbXtsqRI/AAAAAAAAAo4/d5275dJBXeo/s72-c/038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3074712077962241974</id><published>2009-04-26T22:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T23:02:53.012-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I {heart} cousins!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6w8QngsI/AAAAAAAAAoI/iRUDOQ8I_cw/s1600-h/easter09+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329230346546807490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6w8QngsI/AAAAAAAAAoI/iRUDOQ8I_cw/s400/easter09+040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I know I have posted before about the McHy triplets, but as they get bigger, they also get cuter and cuter!  Easter was another fun time for the boys to get together and pretty much grunt at each other and drool! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6wgFUNAI/AAAAAAAAAoA/KMkd5jwPlZQ/s1600-h/easter09+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329230338983212034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6wgFUNAI/AAAAAAAAAoA/KMkd5jwPlZQ/s400/easter09+045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Look how big everyone is getting!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bode (6 months) Henry (8 months) Van (6 months)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6wZZ5kGI/AAAAAAAAAn4/V4ssihODqXk/s1600-h/easter09+048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329230337190498402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6wZZ5kGI/AAAAAAAAAn4/V4ssihODqXk/s400/easter09+048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And...how great is this???  The triplets are expanding into QUADS!!!  This is my cute step-sister Katy, ready to pop out yet another McHy boy!  Actually, since this pic, Greysen Burke Frandsen has joined our crazy fam.  They got home from the hospital yesterday and are doing awesome!!  I'm sure this "big" boys can't wait to get their slobbery little hands on baby Grey to welcome him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-3074712077962241974?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3074712077962241974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3074712077962241974' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3074712077962241974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3074712077962241974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-heart-cousins.html' title='I {heart} cousins!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SfU6w8QngsI/AAAAAAAAAoI/iRUDOQ8I_cw/s72-c/easter09+040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1802588283068956748</id><published>2009-04-18T13:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T13:17:03.883-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Easter Bunny!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeomClbCbqI/AAAAAAAAAno/Ld7LqcRNXEY/s1600-h/easter09+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326111335166144162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeomClbCbqI/AAAAAAAAAno/Ld7LqcRNXEY/s400/easter09+023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This year the Easter Bunny brought Bode an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Exersaucer&lt;/span&gt;.  I never had one with the girls because I thought it was such an unnecessary "frill".  But little Bo has never been a fan of the swing and I think he is getting too big for the bouncer...he keeps leaning forward trying to launch himself off of it.  Besides, I am hoping this will help even out the bald spot on the back of his head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeomCQGK3CI/AAAAAAAAAng/89H626pTEBY/s1600-h/easter09+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326111329441471522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeomCQGK3CI/AAAAAAAAAng/89H626pTEBY/s400/easter09+027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As you can see, it was a huge hit...with EVERYONE!!  The girls can't leave it alone either.  They get so excited when he spins himself around to find a new toy, and best of all...they got a huge box to play in!  (or nap in, if you ask Claire) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeoloT6HWpI/AAAAAAAAAnY/GXdFEpH5Ffo/s1600-h/easter09+049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326110883788053138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeoloT6HWpI/AAAAAAAAAnY/GXdFEpH5Ffo/s400/easter09+049.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1802588283068956748?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1802588283068956748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1802588283068956748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1802588283068956748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1802588283068956748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/04/thanks-easter-bunny.html' title='Thanks Easter Bunny!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeomClbCbqI/AAAAAAAAAno/Ld7LqcRNXEY/s72-c/easter09+023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2073161111044743883</id><published>2009-04-16T16:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T16:38:37.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeexGR3so1I/AAAAAAAAAm4/9p0vn5RzBHg/s1600-h/easter09+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325419805823247186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeexGR3so1I/AAAAAAAAAm4/9p0vn5RzBHg/s400/easter09+008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Easter Sunday...a few days late due to severe SUGAR RUSH!!  Notice Bode even got a basket, filled with things he can't have, which really means...treats for mom!  His cute little basket turns into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camouflage&lt;/span&gt; hat...which turned out to be about 4 sizes too big!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew-MGv70I/AAAAAAAAAmw/hiIuWtYh_TA/s1600-h/easter09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325419666836811586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew-MGv70I/AAAAAAAAAmw/hiIuWtYh_TA/s400/easter09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige was very concerned that the Easter Bunny came to our house in the middle of the night to leave baskets, but not hide eggs.  She informed us that it just wasn't right...he was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;supposed&lt;/span&gt; to come while we were at church!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew-LjL2JI/AAAAAAAAAmo/NQrUJLTMEjE/s1600-h/easter09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325419666687645842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew-LjL2JI/AAAAAAAAAmo/NQrUJLTMEjE/s400/easter09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The biggest hit this year was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Webkinz&lt;/span&gt;!  We saw these double packs at Costco for a great price, but of course couldn't get the girls to agree on one pack with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Webkinz&lt;/span&gt; for each in it.  I had planned to get them each one anyway, so for a couple bucks more, they each got 2!  SPOILED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew9yRQA_I/AAAAAAAAAmg/Ky4cJoGJf8I/s1600-h/easter09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325419659901535218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew9yRQA_I/AAAAAAAAAmg/Ky4cJoGJf8I/s400/easter09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor little Bo...doesn't even care about the treats inside...he was too enthralled by the colorful packaging and the noises they made!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew9utJspI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ywySjkHmRds/s1600-h/easter09+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325419658944819858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew9utJspI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ywySjkHmRds/s400/easter09+013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew9cgAxmI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/L5WJVV1XD5s/s1600-h/easter09+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325419654057870946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Seew9cgAxmI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/L5WJVV1XD5s/s400/easter09+033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; FINALLY...all cleaned up, ready for church!  I had seen these dresses at Costco months ago and wanted them, but didn't snatch them up fast enough before they were gone!  So I settled for different ones, buying Bode a matching outfit for those.  Then, the day before Easter, Costco did something they have never done before...they got in another shipment!!  What can I say...I'm a sucker for dresses, so each kid got two Easter outfits. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2073161111044743883?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2073161111044743883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2073161111044743883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2073161111044743883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2073161111044743883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SeexGR3so1I/AAAAAAAAAm4/9p0vn5RzBHg/s72-c/easter09+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2840449295284323983</id><published>2009-04-07T18:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T18:24:37.145-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nine Years ago...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;April 6, 2000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sdvq3ep7ydI/AAAAAAAAAmI/HgWJ0J4IchQ/s1600-h/scan00203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322105623511026130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sdvq3ep7ydI/AAAAAAAAAmI/HgWJ0J4IchQ/s400/scan00203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can't believe it has been nine years since Steve and I tied the knot! I vividly remember how nervous Steve was when he picked me up that morning to go to the Temple. I remember sitting in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Celelstial&lt;/span&gt; Room together, holding hands, neither one of us daring to speak.  I remember my mom missing half the luncheon because she was waiting in the Temple to help me change my clothes. (We were running late so we went straight to the luncheon in our wedding clothes!)  I remember heading back to the Temple while my mom went ahead to the reception center with the key to my locker! I remember Steve's parents showing up 15 minutes before the reception started. I remember extending the reception hours so that our guests could attend both the Palmyra Temple dedication and the McClure-Vincent wedding bash of the year! I remember oodles of people walking through, wondering how we knew all these people, all the while our 3 little flower girls trying to hide under the skirt of my dress. I remember the get-away, and how sad it was to watch my dad cry, sending away his baby girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sdvq3dHPTaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/QA_AVpvKMZw/s1600-h/scan00013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322105623097068962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sdvq3dHPTaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/QA_AVpvKMZw/s400/scan00013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I loved everything about that day. The weather was perfect (although a bit windy).&lt;br /&gt;I loved the dress, I loved the cake, I loved the flowers,&lt;br /&gt;but most importantly...I loved the man who made it all possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now, here we are, nine years later...definitely the longest relationship either of us has ever had. Three houses, three kids, and umpteen pounds later we are still going strong.&lt;br /&gt;I love you, babe! Thanks for making me &lt;strong&gt;Mrs&lt;/strong&gt;. Stephen Vincent!&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/2839229465856949694-2840449295284323983?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2840449295284323983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2840449295284323983' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2840449295284323983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2840449295284323983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/04/nine-years-ago.html' title='Nine Years ago...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Sdvq3ep7ydI/AAAAAAAAAmI/HgWJ0J4IchQ/s72-c/scan00203.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5991679502899978682</id><published>2009-04-01T22:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T23:00:56.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laugh...it's the only way to keep from crying!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdRC1kVCtFI/AAAAAAAAAl4/xnHhbMZCpPw/s1600-h/545.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319950547883832402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdRC1kVCtFI/AAAAAAAAAl4/xnHhbMZCpPw/s400/545.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Once again, as I was neglecting them, my independent daughters got themselves into trouble.  I remember being downstairs trying to blog, submit my nursing application, and talk on the phone when I heard the popcorn popper start up.  It is not an unusual sound around our house...it is one of our favorite treats.  The girls have learned their lesson about appropriate popcorn eating locations (mommy's bed IS NOT an included) and proper butter to popcorn ratio (a full cube is not necessary unless you work at the Megaplex).  Apparently, we are still mastering bowl size selection, because this is the sight I came upstairs to.  But not before Claire learned the lesson of secure popcorn kernel bag closure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdRC1g1_h8I/AAAAAAAAAlw/r8nnvRIEC4E/s1600-h/546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319950546948294594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdRC1g1_h8I/AAAAAAAAAlw/r8nnvRIEC4E/s400/546.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So the pictures don't do the mess justice, considering I came upon it "mid-pileup" and half a pound of kernels tend to scatter.  Truly from one end of the kitchen to the other!  With the stress of my dad's health situation, I was already on edge and the girls knew it.  They looked at me nervously, apologizing immediately, anticipating the yell.  At this point I simply handed them each a hand broom and dustpan, laughing.  Sometimes it's the only way to keep from crying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5991679502899978682?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5991679502899978682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5991679502899978682' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5991679502899978682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5991679502899978682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/04/laughits-only-way-to-keep-from-crying.html' title='Laugh...it&apos;s the only way to keep from crying!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdRC1kVCtFI/AAAAAAAAAl4/xnHhbMZCpPw/s72-c/545.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5244947392147825044</id><published>2009-03-30T18:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T18:27:15.804-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Own a King-Size Bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdFeRvUeNwI/AAAAAAAAAlo/Y59WAeclsyQ/s1600-h/543.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdFeRKR7gLI/AAAAAAAAAlg/6Np95_5BQOk/s1600-h/544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319136283811610802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdFeRKR7gLI/AAAAAAAAAlg/6Np95_5BQOk/s400/544.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't usually like to post pictures of myself...particularly ones where I am looking so lovely.  I came across this one when I filled up my memory card and downloaded it to Costco to be burned into a disk.  Apparently, this was the scene Steve left on his way to work.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Really, this is my fault.  When Paige was born, Steve was traveling 6 nights a week.  Elizabeth Smart had just been snatched from her bed in the middle of the night, so to protect my baby (and keep me from leaving my bed to feed her in the night) I kept little Paige in bed with me.  Sadly, she has never grown out of it.  I swore not to do the same with Claire.  She learned early on to sleep in her crib by herself, as we struggled to teach Paige.  When we put the condo up for sale, oblivious to my graveyard shift, our Real Estate agent ALWAYS seemed to book 9 am showings.  It became easier at that point to let the girls sleep in our bed as to leave 2 less beds to make in the morning!  Habits seem to form quickly, and are hard to break.  Plus, with Steve needing to go to sleep early and me needing to sleep in, it is so much easier to let the girls stay up late watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; in our bed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accommodate&lt;/span&gt; both our crazy schedules! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Despite our efforts, someone still ends up crawling in during the night, and most of the time I don't notice until I nearly fall off the bed!  Although it is FAR from ideal, we keep telling ourselves that one day our "snuggle-buddies" won't want to snuggle with us anymore and we should savor each moment.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My guess about this picture is that this was a Friday morning.  Usually, by Fridays I am so exhausted that it is no surprise to me that I forgot to take my glasses off.  (At least my mouth is closed and I am not drooling!)  Bode starts off in our bed so that Steve is sure to hear him cry in the night while I am at work, a habit we keep vowing to change starting every weekend!  Claire probably came in shortly after I did, wanting to snuggle, at which point Paige would have woken up in her room alone and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mosey&lt;/span&gt;ed across the hall to see if there was any room at the inn.  Paige probably climbed up from the foot of the bed, pushing her way under Steve's arm, and slowly but surely pushing him right out of bed.  At which point, he got up and asked her to "keep his pillow warm".  While I am grateful that both girls have finally learned that heads go at the top of the bed and feet stay at the bottom, (as opposed to feet in mom's ribs and head in daddy's back) they still manage to take their half out of the middle.  Notice that Paige's Ballerina Barbie even has more room in the bed than I do!  Maybe Paige's plan of buying another king-size bed isn't so bad after all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5244947392147825044?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5244947392147825044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5244947392147825044' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5244947392147825044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5244947392147825044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-i-own-king-size-bed.html' title='Why I Own a King-Size Bed'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SdFeRKR7gLI/AAAAAAAAAlg/6Np95_5BQOk/s72-c/544.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5187659390354451386</id><published>2009-03-26T15:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T15:12:15.642-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"PAIN"creatitis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ScvtB8ZPGqI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/JlgG_Np9nVQ/s1600-h/IMG_7629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317604402688629410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ScvtB8ZPGqI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/JlgG_Np9nVQ/s400/IMG_7629.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No...he is not headed to outer space (although I bet he wishes he could!)  For the past several weeks, my dad has been in the hospital suffering from severe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pancreatitis&lt;/span&gt;.  It all started two and a half weeks ago.  The whole McClure family had gone over to my dad's for Sunday dinner, only to find him very sick.  He was doubled over in pain and sweating like there was no tomorrow.  We insisted he go to the ER, so Steve, Terry and my brother-in-law Rob took him over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IMC&lt;/span&gt; where he was diagnosed with &lt;em&gt;Acute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Pancreatitis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.   It has been a roller-coaster ever since.  The problem with the pancreas is that no one knows what brings on the inflammation and there is no way to bring it back down, but to wait it out and treat the other problems it causes.  In dad's case, this has included pneumonia, C. Diff infection (a nasty bacteria in the intestines and bowel...VERY contagious!), non-functioning kidneys, 30+ pounds of fluid which has caused him to look like a pregnant woman with a huge belly along with severe swelling in the legs and one arm, and most recently a blood clot.  He spent two weeks in Intensive Care and had to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;intubated&lt;/span&gt; for a few days.  Although they have found that his gallbladder is full of stones, they do not plan to remove it until he is much better.  It really has been a trial of "two steps forward and one step back".  There is talk of him being discharged for home in the next few days, but still a long recovery ahead.  Keep fighting, Dad!  We love you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5187659390354451386?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5187659390354451386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5187659390354451386' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5187659390354451386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5187659390354451386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/03/paincreatitis.html' title='&quot;PAIN&quot;creatitis'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ScvtB8ZPGqI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/JlgG_Np9nVQ/s72-c/IMG_7629.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1489717687501690946</id><published>2009-03-09T16:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T16:47:58.940-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumping Jacks Off Track</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWaouyxqjI/AAAAAAAAAlE/VWukY7IAqoE/s1600-h/feb09+028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311321360099813938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWaouyxqjI/AAAAAAAAAlE/VWukY7IAqoE/s400/feb09+028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Paige has just gone back to school after being off-track for nearly 4 weeks! We had such a great time sleeping in, going on lunch dates to McDonalds, but most of all...we discovered Jumping Jacks! It is a giant bounce house in West Jordan. I think it is kind of pricey for just a one-time thing, but we bought a mom &amp;amp; me pass for $15 which allowed us to go as much as we wanted for a month! My sister bought one too, so I bet we spent at least two days a week there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWaoOus9JI/AAAAAAAAAk8/jOt_H-W_2aA/s1600-h/feb09+033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311321351492793490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWaoOus9JI/AAAAAAAAAk8/jOt_H-W_2aA/s400/feb09+033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWansKOy2I/AAAAAAAAAk0/-IANLcVI4sA/s1600-h/feb09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311321342213016418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWansKOy2I/AAAAAAAAAk0/-IANLcVI4sA/s400/feb09+032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I would however recommend bringing an adult friend to talk to or a book to read because once the kids take off, you don't see them again for hours!  And bring some cash...they don't let you sneak Diet Coke's in, but sell them there for a small fortune!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWanb6iPHI/AAAAAAAAAks/elhzAD9HNP4/s1600-h/feb09+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311321337852214386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWanb6iPHI/AAAAAAAAAks/elhzAD9HNP4/s400/feb09+031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1489717687501690946?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1489717687501690946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1489717687501690946' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1489717687501690946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1489717687501690946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/03/jumping-jacks-off-track.html' title='Jumping Jacks Off Track'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbWaouyxqjI/AAAAAAAAAlE/VWukY7IAqoE/s72-c/feb09+028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8354578132437123247</id><published>2009-03-07T12:43:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T12:52:14.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tubby Time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO8dIVdFI/AAAAAAAAAkk/o58bGtheClU/s1600-h/feb09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310534448630297682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO8dIVdFI/AAAAAAAAAkk/o58bGtheClU/s400/feb09+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I don't think it is abnormal...I think every mommy loves bath time (and taking embarrassing pictures of bathtime to share with girlfriends when he is 30!)  There is just something about it...the smile he gets playing in the water and the sweet smell of Johnson's and Johnson's afterward.  Plus I love the way his hair curls up when it is wet.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO8ESTcII/AAAAAAAAAkc/W7UJYYWmzbI/s1600-h/feb09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310534441961222274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO8ESTcII/AAAAAAAAAkc/W7UJYYWmzbI/s400/feb09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO7c82VmI/AAAAAAAAAkU/-H-crZyuQ-Y/s1600-h/feb09+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310534431402251874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO7c82VmI/AAAAAAAAAkU/-H-crZyuQ-Y/s400/feb09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Notice the new hand fetish.  I really don't think he is teething...just figuring out that they are there and are a perfect fit for his mouth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-8354578132437123247?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8354578132437123247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8354578132437123247' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8354578132437123247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8354578132437123247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/03/tubby-time.html' title='Tubby Time!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SbLO8dIVdFI/AAAAAAAAAkk/o58bGtheClU/s72-c/feb09+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4938938946813123568</id><published>2009-03-02T13:02:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T13:27:46.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Isn't it Grand...Junction!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-vy4I2dI/AAAAAAAAAkM/izfqS-Edhws/s1600-h/Collage8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308687051594979794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-vy4I2dI/AAAAAAAAAkM/izfqS-Edhws/s400/Collage8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This weekend we were able to ride on G&amp;amp;K's shirt tails a little bit and join Steve in Grand Junction.  There was a trade show going on Friday, sure to bring in some good contacts, so we decided to make a mini-vacation out of it.  The girls were so excited to head out and told everyone we saw we were going to Colorado.  Surprisingly, the biggest hit of the trip was the Colorado National Monument.  The girls begged to go back a second time, so we went again!  Of course, daddy kept teasing that he was going to drive off the edge into the huge canyon below, which of course resulted in tears.  And no trip would be complete without a potty break every 7 minutes.  I guess I am the only one allowed to have drinks on road trips.  No one else can hold their bladder!  Thank goodness for the Dora potty we brought along...it totally saved us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-veG0JGI/AAAAAAAAAkE/S5yQyjmxr3g/s1600-h/Collage9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308687046019392610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-veG0JGI/AAAAAAAAAkE/S5yQyjmxr3g/s400/Collage9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We were also told it was a must to hit the Dinosaur museum.  I wasn't sure what the girls would think, but they had a blast moving robotic dinosaurs and digging for bones with big brushes.  The museum wasn't very big, but had several animated dinosaurs that would move at the push of a button.  The one in the center photo here was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;velociraptor&lt;/span&gt; that spit "acid" onto nearby watchers.  I think the highlight of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; museum experience was the earthquake exhibit.  This black platform would shake and jiggle, simulating a 5.3 earthquake.  Even Steve and I had a hard time gaining our "sea legs" back after getting off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-vQ6XVeI/AAAAAAAAAj8/55cEzfnwIFo/s1600-h/feb09+072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308687042477512162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-vQ6XVeI/AAAAAAAAAj8/55cEzfnwIFo/s400/feb09+072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And of course, no trip would be complete without a stop at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Krispy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kremes&lt;/span&gt;.  The girls would happily stand and watch for hours if we let them.  We bought two dozen and I'm sorry to say that they have already disappeared!  But we had to...after all, the "STOP" sign was calling to us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-u1Hxz0I/AAAAAAAAAj0/w7mXAw3zY00/s1600-h/feb09+073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308687035017580354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-u1Hxz0I/AAAAAAAAAj0/w7mXAw3zY00/s400/feb09+073.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4938938946813123568?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4938938946813123568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4938938946813123568' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4938938946813123568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4938938946813123568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/03/isnt-it-grandjunction.html' title='Isn&apos;t it Grand...Junction!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/Saw-vy4I2dI/AAAAAAAAAkM/izfqS-Edhws/s72-c/Collage8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6351486314544898457</id><published>2009-02-25T05:26:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T06:00:44.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Claire's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8gSiNnxI/AAAAAAAAAjs/OnhZChPh4qw/s1600-h/jan09+055.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306714261354815250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8gSiNnxI/AAAAAAAAAjs/OnhZChPh4qw/s400/jan09+055.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Who can resist this cute four-year old face??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WjPYkeI/AAAAAAAAAjk/-AdiltRN50o/s1600-h/jan09+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306714094040551906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WjPYkeI/AAAAAAAAAjk/-AdiltRN50o/s400/jan09+054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Apparently I can because this year I opted not to throw a big birthday party for her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just couldn't justify a big party for a four-year old. Especially since winter birthday parties have to be something inside which involves either a LOT of creativity &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;or a LOT of money, and I just wasn't feeling either one. So when the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jordan World Circus came to town three days before her birthday &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I thought it was a PERFECT way to celebrate. My sisters and I took all the cousins, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;plus Claire's best friend, Ali, to the circus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WUN91HI/AAAAAAAAAjc/_R_eE8s1aW0/s1600-h/jan09+067.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306714090008073330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WUN91HI/AAAAAAAAAjc/_R_eE8s1aW0/s400/jan09+067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I think the kids had a good time, although they were all dying to ride the elephant and the ponies and of course buy every treat and light up gimmick that walked by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WTR_13I/AAAAAAAAAjU/Y8eMlrSi8e4/s1600-h/jan09+058.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306714089756546930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WTR_13I/AAAAAAAAAjU/Y8eMlrSi8e4/s400/jan09+058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Much to our dismay...there were no clowns, but several things seemed to catch their attention, like the Triple Motorcycle Wheel of Death &amp;amp; the Jump Rope Trapeze Man. (I will admit, it was pretty intense...my sisters and I kept gasping and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;screaming for him to PLEASE stop!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WA5hBVI/AAAAAAAAAjM/RW4SkwYwATQ/s1600-h/jan09+060.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306714084822025554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8WA5hBVI/AAAAAAAAAjM/RW4SkwYwATQ/s400/jan09+060.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Poor Bode thought it was pretty loud, but overall was a good sport.  I truly tried to take some decent pictures of the acts to document the event, and I'm not sure if it was the poor lighting or honestly, the lack of interest on my part, but I got nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8V0QDHwI/AAAAAAAAAjE/1YSEOLf4h58/s1600-h/jan09+066.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306714081426874114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8V0QDHwI/AAAAAAAAAjE/1YSEOLf4h58/s400/jan09+066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; After the circus was over, I found Paige imitating some of the circus acts. The other girls all quickly joined her. Even my sister Michelle gave it a go...but I have been threatened to keep those pictures to myself (BLACKMAIL, YOU KNOW).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Let's hope this doesn't lead to a career in pole dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At last the circus was over, and before we knew it, we were being asked to leave so they could start the second show. We met dady at Chick-fil-A for dinner before dropping Ali off at home and calling it one heck of a day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6351486314544898457?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6351486314544898457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6351486314544898457' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6351486314544898457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6351486314544898457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/still-claires-birthday.html' title='Still Claire&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaU8gSiNnxI/AAAAAAAAAjs/OnhZChPh4qw/s72-c/jan09+055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4200913173230269344</id><published>2009-02-23T14:42:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T15:05:23.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DISCLAIMER: Not for the weak stomach!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaMchlHG3aI/AAAAAAAAAi8/MuMIOnnEkRs/s1600-h/trafalga09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306116149195759010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaMchlHG3aI/AAAAAAAAAi8/MuMIOnnEkRs/s400/trafalga09+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaMcgTCT_pI/AAAAAAAAAi0/a9dE2DAzGI4/s1600-h/Collage7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306116127163940498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaMcgTCT_pI/AAAAAAAAAi0/a9dE2DAzGI4/s400/Collage7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaMZC_L0MTI/AAAAAAAAAiM/8gUtxyo_b_s/s1600-h/trafalga09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hooray!! Paige has been officially released from all medical treatment on these feet! Dr. Santora says the surgery was a complete success and he doesn't need to see her again until October for follow-up. He recommended that we put her into "anything" physical to get her movin' those tootsies...so she has started jazz and tumbling with thoughts of playing Herriman Baseball this Spring. She is required to have nightly Vitamin E and Aloe lotion massage with Mederma (scar-reducing cream...we'll see if it's more than a gimmick). They are also in the process of making her some silicone inserts to apply pressure to her scars in hopes of making them less bulky. (similar to what burn-victims wear), but we are still waiting for them to be made. We are so glad to have her feeling better, however we already miss the handicapped parking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4200913173230269344?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4200913173230269344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4200913173230269344' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4200913173230269344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4200913173230269344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/disclaimer-not-for-weak-stomach.html' title='DISCLAIMER: Not for the weak stomach!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SaMchlHG3aI/AAAAAAAAAi8/MuMIOnnEkRs/s72-c/trafalga09+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4152605709837714639</id><published>2009-02-20T05:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T05:46:10.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My GiRlS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZ6hOUXTMDI/AAAAAAAAAhs/PNW8bCp1_Po/s1600-h/jan09+051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304854678445699122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZ6hOUXTMDI/AAAAAAAAAhs/PNW8bCp1_Po/s400/jan09+051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I tell you...it is a good thing they are cute.  It is their saving grace sometimes.  Just wanted to jot down some random thoughts about these little ladies before I forget and think, "What was it that I was laughing so hard about?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Paige...has been trying so hard to turn her walk into a run.  My sister saw her running the other day while our kids were playing and asked me if she needed therapy.  It is a little "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pheobe&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt;", but I am just glad she is trying.  It's also good for a laugh.  Yesterday, I was pleasantly awakened to the sound of clinking dishes coming down the hall.  I sat up to find Paige carrying a cookie sheet complete with knife, fork, plate of toast and glass of milk with a curly straw.  Unfortunately, she tripped over the bedspread at the end of the bed and the milk went flying!  How could I be mad at that??  She ran to her room crying, and while I am swearing on the inside, mopping milk out of the carpet, I was calling to her, "Thank you...I'm not mad!  You're not in trouble!"  She came back in and took the glass back out for a refill.  When she came back, they wanted to watch me eat their creation.  The toast looked rather "shiny" so I thought I was in for a big bite of butter...but no.  They had covered it in maple syrup and called it "French Toast".  After my first bite, the giggling duo ran back out to the kitchen, only to come back a few moments later with a plate of their own.  Paige told me, "We thought we would join you."  She really has been a good helper with Bode, so when she asked tonight if we could go to Chili's for dinner, it was hard to say no.  On the way there she informed us that she would like to stop at Iceberg on the way home for dessert, saying that dad "talked her into it".  We ended up having dessert at Chili's since both girls ate their entire meals (a rarity!)  SO YUMMY...we got the white chocolate raspberry molten lava cake.  It came to us covered in white chocolate shavings to which Paige replied, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;...fingernails!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Claire...really just cracks me up.  The other day, Paige was taking pictures non-stop with her camera.  She told Claire to "pose" so she could take a cute picture of her.  Without skipping a beat, Claire turned around and MOONED the camera!  I couldn't help but laugh.  It was almost like when your kids swear and you want to discipline them, but if you open your mouth you will laugh out loud!  I have no idea where she got that!  Last night, I came home from work to find Claire's cute little face pop out the door when I opened the garage.  When I got inside, I found her standing there with her nightgown around her neck, trying to find the armholes.  Apparently she had fallen asleep in her dance clothes and daddy had just put her in her bed.  Well, this is the girl that LOVES &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt;, and even though it was 5 in the morning, she had to change.  She told me she had woken up because she was cold, tried to change her clothes and got stuck but couldn't get Steve to wake up to help her.  So she took her blanket, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt;, and two &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Webkins&lt;/span&gt; out to the living room couch to wait for me.  One last thing...quite a while ago, Paige started a nasty habit of sucking on her hair.  Paige has since been threatened with her life to knock it off, but unfortunately, Claire has recently picked up on it.  It makes hair-brushing a nightmare!  I have been putting her in ponies (which she hates because it pulls her hair), but then she started refusing that too!  This week, I put an end to it once and for all.  I marched the little "hair-sucker" right into Cookie Cutters and told the girl to cut it short enough so that it could not reach her mouth.  It was one expensive haircut, but problem solved.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4152605709837714639?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4152605709837714639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4152605709837714639' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4152605709837714639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4152605709837714639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-girls.html' title='My GiRlS'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZ6hOUXTMDI/AAAAAAAAAhs/PNW8bCp1_Po/s72-c/jan09+051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-3659296252787043235</id><published>2009-02-17T06:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T06:05:16.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BigMac and 3-3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZq1CveNLfI/AAAAAAAAAhk/vwchsCkcWGI/s1600-h/IMG_7317.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303750569889705458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZq1CveNLfI/AAAAAAAAAhk/vwchsCkcWGI/s400/IMG_7317.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My dad has always had a funny way of numbering his children.  Instead of being called Brooke, most of my life I have been known as #3.  Now that all his "numbers" have multiplied, he has extended his system.  Bode is #3-3, the third child of his third child.  Seems easier to me to remember names.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I don't know what it is, but seeing my dad building relationships with these grandbabies just makes me melt!  I think it is especially different with Bode because he is a boy.  My dad always wanted a son, so now that all his girls have one, I think he is living vicariously through us.  I just think of all the things Grandpa BigMac can teach him...geocaching, electricity, woodworking, bug riding, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-3659296252787043235?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/3659296252787043235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=3659296252787043235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3659296252787043235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/3659296252787043235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/bigmac-and-3-3.html' title='BigMac and 3-3'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZq1CveNLfI/AAAAAAAAAhk/vwchsCkcWGI/s72-c/IMG_7317.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7343647824640849577</id><published>2009-02-15T21:29:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T21:43:50.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fourth Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsA7nNeyI/AAAAAAAAAhc/e4qozGbNW8w/s1600-h/IMG_7310.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303248061975067426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsA7nNeyI/AAAAAAAAAhc/e4qozGbNW8w/s400/IMG_7310.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; My dad and stepmom, Terry, are so great to have McClure family dinner on the second Sunday of every month. It is always so fun to get together, especially since the kids all play downstairs while we eat...so it is peaceful for a moment. This month happened to land right on Claire's 4th birthday, so we had her party there. For a month she told me she wanted a white kitty Webkins with a pink bow (the one with the crazy hair!) I searched and searched, and short of ordering it online, I finally found it! Or at least I thought I had found it. Shortly after her opening it, everyone informed me that it was a dog!! Sure, enough...the tag read "Yorkie". She says she will still keep it, and it should come as no surprise that she named her Ali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAsZkVlI/AAAAAAAAAhU/e0iB_TKbj4E/s1600-h/IMG_7314.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303248057891313234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAsZkVlI/AAAAAAAAAhU/e0iB_TKbj4E/s400/IMG_7314.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; She also received this Little Pony Rollerskate Party, a Magic Wet Cabbage Patch boy baby, Water Wow, a Barbie and outfit from her cousins Kendyl, Jake and Addy, Princess Yahtzee from her cousins Keaton and Karlie, and a darling jacket from Grandma and Grandpa BigMac. Claire LOVED having all the attention on her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAh9DxMI/AAAAAAAAAhM/FQXElGCAJpM/s1600-h/IMG_7305.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303248055087383746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAh9DxMI/AAAAAAAAAhM/FQXElGCAJpM/s400/IMG_7305.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; As I lay in bed with Claire the night before I told her I didn't want her to turn four. She immediately started to cry, "Then I won't have a birthday!" I tried to tell her I would still let her have the party, I just wanted my favorite three-year-old girl to stay three. She promised to still be my snuggle-buddy even after she turned four, so I decided it was okay to let her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAQVrO7I/AAAAAAAAAhE/bhbKfr0sSwA/s1600-h/IMG_7296.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303248050358795186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAQVrO7I/AAAAAAAAAhE/bhbKfr0sSwA/s400/IMG_7296.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claire agreed that we could take cupcakes with pink frosting for her birthday treat. She helped me with the sprinkles and seemed thrilled with them until the way home when she started to cry that she didn't get to pick out the rainbow balloon cake from Costco! Maybe next year...or maybe Daddy can pick that for his birthday (hint, hint!)  She did tell me that when she blew out the candle on her cupcake, she wished for a white kitty Webkins for Valentines Day.  Maybe by then I can get it right!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAdO_0KI/AAAAAAAAAg8/Hn7fF9H1zHg/s1600-h/IMG_7293.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303248053820444834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 384px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 384px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsAdO_0KI/AAAAAAAAAg8/Hn7fF9H1zHg/s400/IMG_7293.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7343647824640849577?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7343647824640849577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7343647824640849577' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7343647824640849577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7343647824640849577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/fourth-birthday.html' title='A Fourth Birthday'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZjsA7nNeyI/AAAAAAAAAhc/e4qozGbNW8w/s72-c/IMG_7310.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1602188904865218943</id><published>2009-02-11T14:41:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T14:59:41.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sHoTs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Poor Bode.  Yesterday was his four month check-up, which means...you got it, SHOTS!!  The girls were all kinds of upset that I would let the doctor do such a horrible thing to our baby.  No matter how hard I tried to explain it, they just didn't get it.  These are the kinds of appointments you make months in advance and I don't know what I was thinking when I scheduled it for 11:00.  I must have been on Maternity leave, not remembering how tired I am while I am working.  So, bright and early, I hauled the whole brood to the doctor's office.  Actually, Paige was at a sleep-over at her Aunt Valerie's (a reward for walking) and opted out of seeing Bode in "so much pain".  The whole way to the appointment, Claire asked if we could go to McDonald's and Bode still didn't have a clue what he was in for.  Surprisingly, we got there early and I noticed when I signed my billing sheet that there was a different doctor name on it.  I asked about it and the girl at the front desk told me that was who I was seeing today.  I was LIVID!  I made the appointment months ago, how could they have screwed this up??  A little background...I LOVE our pediatrician.  He was referred to us by my OB when we found out through Paige's ultrasound about her club feet.  We met with Dr. Lash even before she was born.  He was born with a cleft palate, so we knew he would be perfect at understanding anomalies.  When Paige was born, his associate, Dr. Buchanan, was the first to come in.  He took one look at her and said, "Oh, club feet.  I had those!" So we loved them from the start.  We see him at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Millcreek&lt;/span&gt; parade every year, and although he doesn't know me by name, he knows me as Paige and Claire's mom.  I finally understand why my mom loved my Dr. Lloyd growing up so much!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SOOO&lt;/span&gt;...my tired-induced anger was soothed when she explained that Dr. Lash was sick and had asked an associate to take his well-babies as to not infect them.  HOW SWEET IS THAT??  It turned out great.  Dr. Packer was wonderful, and she agreed that Bode was so handsome, so what's not to like about her??  He was very brave and only cried for one second while he got his shots.  Claire stood right by his face, stroking his cheek, saying, "It's OK, Bodacious.  You can get a sticker."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at four months, here's how Bode stacks up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;13 lbs. 3 oz. (35&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; percentile)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;25 1/2 inches (75&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; percentile)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And 42&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; percentile in head size&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(are you sure he's ours?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1602188904865218943?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1602188904865218943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1602188904865218943' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1602188904865218943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1602188904865218943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/shots.html' title='sHoTs'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6939343962418244587</id><published>2009-02-09T15:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T15:10:21.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOUR</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZCpIINq9oI/AAAAAAAAAg0/PNv7hPGQEYs/s1600-h/IMGP1389.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300922718523946626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZCpIINq9oI/AAAAAAAAAg0/PNv7hPGQEYs/s400/IMGP1389.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Four years ago, we welcomed our second little girl into the world.  Linda Claire Vincent was born on February 8, 2005 at 5:30pm.  She weighed 7 lbs. 11 oz. and was 19 1/2 inches long.  She has been such a blessing and a perfect addition to our family.  Happy birthday, Boo...we love you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6939343962418244587?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6939343962418244587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6939343962418244587' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6939343962418244587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6939343962418244587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/four.html' title='FOUR'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SZCpIINq9oI/AAAAAAAAAg0/PNv7hPGQEYs/s72-c/IMGP1389.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-8917341099172430281</id><published>2009-02-06T22:38:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T22:49:25.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Stop Laughing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SY0fFZj9BFI/AAAAAAAAAgs/1UIDFIQ04AI/s1600-h/jan09+048.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299926514106434642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SY0fFZj9BFI/AAAAAAAAAgs/1UIDFIQ04AI/s400/jan09+048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Just wanted to document that Bode started laughing this week! It is the sweetest sound! It all started last Friday afternoon as I was bent over his chest trying to smell his breath (I'm sorry, it is just the cutest smell ever!) I think my hair brushed his cheek, making him smile, so I tickled him a little bit under his chin and his smiles burst into giggles! We are so blessed to have such a happy boy, although Daddy swears that in the middle of the night while Mommy is at work, he looks more like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SY0fFHO7WOI/AAAAAAAAAgk/nj3g31VVy7E/s1600-h/jan09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299926509186406626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SY0fFHO7WOI/AAAAAAAAAgk/nj3g31VVy7E/s400/jan09+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Since I see this side of him so rarely, I still think it's cute. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We love you, Monkey!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-8917341099172430281?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/8917341099172430281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=8917341099172430281' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8917341099172430281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/8917341099172430281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/cant-stop-laughing_06.html' title='Can&apos;t Stop Laughing'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SY0fFZj9BFI/AAAAAAAAAgs/1UIDFIQ04AI/s72-c/jan09+048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4130832094783910354</id><published>2009-02-01T22:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T23:07:43.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who does that?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wednesdays are my favorite.  My friend Manda and I trade off taking our little girls to dance.  She usually picks Claire up on the way and I take Ali home.  Lately we have been heading to Chick-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fil&lt;/span&gt;-A for kids night.  (One free kids meal for every combo meal you buy!)  Sadly, my kids hate the food there (which really means I eat my meal plus two kids meals! :(, but you get to trade your toy in for an ice cream cone and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;playland&lt;/span&gt; is clean.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I had threatened Paige with her life to leave her socks on.  I don't know what it is about nasty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;playlands&lt;/span&gt; that make my kids want to take their socks off and bring home some E. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Coli&lt;/span&gt;, but they do, every time!  But this time I meant business.  With her feet still healing, I absolutely did not want her socks off.  Being the obedient child that she is, of course she took them right off.  Whatever, I vowed to boil her when we got home anyway.  So as we were getting ready for the bath that night, Paige started to tell me about a little boy in the play land.  This little boy expressed an interest in the large scars on Paige's feet, to which she answered very matter-of-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;factly&lt;/span&gt;, "I had club feet".  The boy's dad was in there with him and told Paige that his son was "born special" too.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;proceeded&lt;/span&gt; to lift the boys shirt and show Paige (and the two little girls) the boy's chest.  Paige explained it to me by pointing on herself that he had "one of these and not one over here".  I didn't quite get it, so she finally yelled, "He only has one NIBBLE!"  Of course, after I peed my pants laughing, I thought, "What kind of dad shows people that???"  I mean here is this little boy, trying to make friends with the ladies, and here comes his dad..."Look guys, he only has one nipple!"  I can just imagine the little girls laughing and the boy hanging his poor little head saying, "Thanks a lot, dad!"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4130832094783910354?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4130832094783910354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4130832094783910354' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4130832094783910354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4130832094783910354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/02/who-does-that.html' title='Who does that?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-85448784894437735</id><published>2009-01-24T19:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T19:12:36.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love to see the Temple</title><content type='html'>Last night we had the opportunity to tour the Draper Temple.  You would have thought it was Christmas the way Paige was bouncing around so excited!  She has wanted to go inside the temple for as long as I can remember and can't quite understand why she can't.  The tour was very well organized and the temple was breathtaking!  We met at a nearby church to watch a short video and then we were bused to the temple for the tour.  Bode slept in the sling the entire time and I have never seen the girls so quiet.  Paige was absolutely fascinated by it all.  She just kept looking around wide-eyed and saying, "I can feel the Spirit!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family favorites included:&lt;br /&gt;Claire: the baptismal font with the "Aminals"&lt;br /&gt;Paige: the bride room (she says she can't wait!  Steve and I disagree)&lt;br /&gt;Steve: the "mountain" ordinance room, complete with an extra wide seat&lt;br /&gt;Brooke: the crystal chandeliers, my neck hurts today from looking up so long&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-85448784894437735?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/85448784894437735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=85448784894437735' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/85448784894437735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/85448784894437735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-love-to-see-temple.html' title='I love to see the Temple'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4393383312562798471</id><published>2009-01-12T16:40:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T16:56:21.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look at me...I'm 3 months!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvVoXhxBXI/AAAAAAAAAfM/EUIARpgMCG0/s1600-h/trafalga09+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290557076763903346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvVoXhxBXI/AAAAAAAAAfM/EUIARpgMCG0/s400/trafalga09+040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Time flies too fast! Bode is three months already!  It is true what they say about a &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;special bond between a boy and his mom.  And to think...this is what I was so scared of?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He has been the best baby ever. He is so snuggly and handsome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We all often say to each other, "I just can't stop looking at him".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Not to mention how mild mannered he is and tolerant of the girls fighting over &lt;div align="center"&gt;who gets to give him his binky or who gets to pick out his jammies! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvVoFri2jI/AAAAAAAAAfE/MgHW1HGfuUQ/s1600-h/trafalga09+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290557071973079602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvVoFri2jI/AAAAAAAAAfE/MgHW1HGfuUQ/s400/trafalga09+045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here at three months Bode can: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*take a bottle from daddy and the girls, but not from mom, he knows I'm faking him out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*sleep for about 5 hour blocks at night, but only in a tight burrito&lt;br /&gt;*hold his head up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*coo...it is the cutest thing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He currently goes by:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*Bode&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*Bodacious&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*Bodelicious&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*Bo-Bo Monkey &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*Son-shine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4393383312562798471?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4393383312562798471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4393383312562798471' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4393383312562798471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4393383312562798471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/look-at-meim-3-months.html' title='Look at me...I&apos;m 3 months!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvVoXhxBXI/AAAAAAAAAfM/EUIARpgMCG0/s72-c/trafalga09+040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-107286196418698759</id><published>2009-01-12T15:58:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T16:21:57.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TRUST ME!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvLYxSC6fI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Hkr0VPX717s/s1600-h/trafalga09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290545813683104242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvLYxSC6fI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Hkr0VPX717s/s400/trafalga09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just one more picture from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Trafalga&lt;/span&gt; that deserves a post of it's own.  They have a movie called X-D, which is a 7-minute 3-D movie complete with moving chairs and fans.  So when you are watching, you feel like you are actually "in the show".  Steve's client had sent a free pass for Paige for this show too!  By the way she was carrying on, you would have thought we were taking her to have her legs cut off.  We tried to remind her that she was terrified of Monster Trucks and it turned out to be "the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;awesomest&lt;/span&gt; show ever"!  We reminded her about the time we went to Disneyland and we wanted to go on the Alice in Wonderland Caterpillar ride and she cried through the whole wait but then begged to go again and again!  Two seconds into this X-D show, her tears turned into squeals and laughter.  She absolutely loved it!  This was by far her favorite part of the day.  When will she learn to trust us???  Now does this look like a six-year-old who seven minutes prior was bawling her brains out? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-107286196418698759?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/107286196418698759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=107286196418698759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/107286196418698759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/107286196418698759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/trust-me.html' title='TRUST ME!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvLYxSC6fI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Hkr0VPX717s/s72-c/trafalga09+010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1344508280979469555</id><published>2009-01-12T15:40:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T15:58:15.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIp8MwTEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/xtimY3WmdrY/s1600-h/trafalga09+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542810136595522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIp8MwTEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/xtimY3WmdrY/s400/trafalga09+024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As incentive for Paige to walk, one of Steve's clients gave him a free pass to Trafalga to take her miniature golfing.  We had planned to take the kids between Christmas and New Years, but so many tantrums arose that we opted out.  Why reward them for fighting?  We finally went on Saturday.  It was a hit!  As you can see, Bode enjoyed being rocked to sleep in his sling, laying next to mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIpByMVFI/AAAAAAAAAes/aZfsF08Kf24/s1600-h/trafalga09+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542794455929938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIpByMVFI/AAAAAAAAAes/aZfsF08Kf24/s400/trafalga09+023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The course was glow-in-the-dark with fluorescent lights that turn everything white purple.  Claire's favorite part was the pictures of fish on the walls.  She didn't quite get the concept of the game.  Neither Steve nor I were able to finish a hole since she would snatch the ball up after our first hit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIo2QT17I/AAAAAAAAAek/ItRgTYcY4rU/s1600-h/trafalga09+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542791361025970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIo2QT17I/AAAAAAAAAek/ItRgTYcY4rU/s400/trafalga09+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; DISCLAIMER:  Because of the weird lighting and the girls inability to hold still, these pictures are a little bit trippy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIoWMk3jI/AAAAAAAAAec/_pHa5J24tb8/s1600-h/trafalga09+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542782755429938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIoWMk3jI/AAAAAAAAAec/_pHa5J24tb8/s400/trafalga09+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige did great!  She got a hole-in-one on her first shot!  She walked all around like a champ and didn't complain about her feet hurting until the very end.  Not bad considering we were there for three hours.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIoARlD8I/AAAAAAAAAeU/s9njc5-1XUQ/s1600-h/trafalga09+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542776870834114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIoARlD8I/AAAAAAAAAeU/s9njc5-1XUQ/s400/trafalga09+037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Steve and I loved watching the girls have a great time and having an almost "fight-free" afternoon.  We were very entertained laughing at the girl behind wearing a white thong that would light up purple everytime she bent over.  And before calling it a night, we headed to my favorite ever, Los Hermanos, for the best Mexican food ever! &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1344508280979469555?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1344508280979469555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1344508280979469555' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1344508280979469555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1344508280979469555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/as-incentive-for-paige-to-walk-one-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWvIp8MwTEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/xtimY3WmdrY/s72-c/trafalga09+024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5253299115404092952</id><published>2009-01-07T16:37:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T17:06:29.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Trauma</title><content type='html'>Why do I even try to be creative? I have loved the website &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thecutestblogontheblock&lt;/span&gt;.com for many reasons. First of all, it was free! (You can't get better than that!) Also, it gave me a chance to periodically spruce up my blog, including holiday decorating. Today I heard from my sister that the website is no longer working. I'm hoping it's a fluke and maybe if I keep looking it will pop up just one more time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I looked for substitutes. I found one I liked (shown here) although I'm still not sure about the layout. In switching over, somehow my ENTIRE blog friends list was deleted. Do you think I keep a back up log of those sites? Heck no! That would have made it all too easy. So what was intended to take me 2 minutes to change my background has now taken me over an hour trying to find my friends! (Am I pathetic or what?) So, if you notice you are not on my list, it is not because I have booted you, I just need a reminder of where to find you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of all this loveliness I am trying to figure out how to start an extended family blog where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;multiple&lt;/span&gt; users can post.  I know it's possible, I've seen it before, but how do you do it?  To top it all off, Bode has just spit up all over my last clean shirt (that remotely fits) and the girls have removed every cushion and blanket in the house to make a tent! AND I just finished off my Diet Coke.  My cup &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;runneth&lt;/span&gt; over, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-5253299115404092952?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/5253299115404092952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=5253299115404092952' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5253299115404092952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/5253299115404092952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-trauma.html' title='Blog Trauma'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-4204182069760161192</id><published>2009-01-05T17:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:13:40.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MONSTER fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgTHy27_I/AAAAAAAAAeM/GeU7SiQuShc/s1600-h/trucks09+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287965162856706034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgTHy27_I/AAAAAAAAAeM/GeU7SiQuShc/s400/trucks09+040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The things we do for our kids!  Steve came home Friday with tickets to the Monster Truck/Extreme Motocross event for Saturday night.  Claire was instantly excited, but Paige was rather nervous.  The fact that they were called "Monster" trucks terrified her.  So we spent Saturday afternoon "googling" them to show her they were not scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgS2S1ZGI/AAAAAAAAAeE/DMY2yPnvr4c/s1600-h/trucks09+051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287965158158984290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgS2S1ZGI/AAAAAAAAAeE/DMY2yPnvr4c/s400/trucks09+051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Once the girls adjusted to the weird sensation of earplugs, they had a great time!  Paige kept turning aroung to tell Steve how "awesome" it was and how much she "loved this show!"  They got really into it to and would chant things like, "Don't crush the van!"  Claire just couldn't understand that although she couldn't hear herself talking, we still could, so she would just yell to us, which made Steve and I laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgSeA6m4I/AAAAAAAAAd8/DW8iYCijggI/s1600-h/trucks09+065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287965151641377666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgSeA6m4I/AAAAAAAAAd8/DW8iYCijggI/s400/trucks09+065.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was our favorite truck, Jurassic Attack.  I think the girls liked it best because it was the only one with a "girl driver", although she did do some pretty cool tricks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgSKp_w8I/AAAAAAAAAd0/m-AJ3g5ML4g/s1600-h/trucks09+056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287965146444972994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgSKp_w8I/AAAAAAAAAd0/m-AJ3g5ML4g/s400/trucks09+056.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Once we all got used to the noise, we had a great time.  Even Bode fell asleep to the dull roar he could hear through his ear plugs, the blanket I had wrapped around his ears, the sling I was carrying him in and my hands over top.  Can't wait for next year for some more redneck fun! &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-4204182069760161192?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/4204182069760161192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=4204182069760161192' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4204182069760161192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/4204182069760161192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/monster-fun.html' title='MONSTER fun!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKgTHy27_I/AAAAAAAAAeM/GeU7SiQuShc/s72-c/trucks09+040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-1022618734105065698</id><published>2009-01-05T16:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:00:40.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Decorations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeYeO_blI/AAAAAAAAAds/QnB3ceYHRGM/s1600-h/trucks09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287963055756373586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeYeO_blI/AAAAAAAAAds/QnB3ceYHRGM/s400/trucks09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am so my mother...and that is not necessarily a bad thing.  When I was little, my mom would take pictures of the Christmas decorations before taking them down and then attach the pictures to the boxes as she packed them away.  I always thought it was such a waste of time (and film!) but of course, mother is always right and I have realized what a great idea it really is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeYDIRJhI/AAAAAAAAAdk/aoktGjPcArg/s1600-h/trucks09+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287963048480417298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeYDIRJhI/AAAAAAAAAdk/aoktGjPcArg/s400/trucks09+010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love pulling out my Christmas decorations every year.  Mostly because they remind me so much of her.  Most of the tree decorations are things we made together as a family, along with the yearly tradition of getting a new Santa Claus from mom and dad.  &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeXmPxdsI/AAAAAAAAAdc/fg3Sj5xXX-8/s1600-h/trucks09+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287963040727267010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeXmPxdsI/AAAAAAAAAdc/fg3Sj5xXX-8/s400/trucks09+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeXbTxSbI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Lr3Hy7OABSo/s1600-h/trucks09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287963037791242674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeXbTxSbI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Lr3Hy7OABSo/s400/trucks09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeVu73ktI/AAAAAAAAAdM/-fHUZw7Dgto/s1600-h/trucks09+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287963008699962066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeVu73ktI/AAAAAAAAAdM/-fHUZw7Dgto/s400/trucks09+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-1022618734105065698?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/1022618734105065698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=1022618734105065698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1022618734105065698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/1022618734105065698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas-decorations.html' title='Christmas Decorations'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SWKeYeO_blI/AAAAAAAAAds/QnB3ceYHRGM/s72-c/trucks09+003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-2560529049637403787</id><published>2008-12-29T14:24:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T14:58:08.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Highlights</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlECSIVzzI/AAAAAAAAAdE/k4_ctxoAMX0/s1600-h/Collage6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285330443713236786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlECSIVzzI/AAAAAAAAAdE/k4_ctxoAMX0/s400/Collage6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bode's first Christmas proved to be very uneventful.  He woke up before the girls, long enough to eat and konk right back out!  He woke up again just in time to open stockings.  Poor kid...Santa only brought him practical stuff.  Diapers and binkies.  Maybe next year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlEBRdxV6I/AAAAAAAAAc8/vNwqKewMsmk/s1600-h/claire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285330426354816930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlEBRdxV6I/AAAAAAAAAc8/vNwqKewMsmk/s400/claire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think Claire was the most excited of the three for Santa.  On Christmas Eve, Steve pulled up Santa's location on Norad, showing the girls how close he was.  We told her that if he came and we weren't asleep he would skip over us.  I've never seen her run so fast yelling, "I'm tired right now!"  She was right too, she went right to sleep, only to wake up around 4 to come in our room and let me know that Santa had come.  She was thrilled with the Dora tent Paige gave her, and the Tinkerbell Tea Set, Dora video game and Polly Pocket cruise ship she got from Santa!  She also loved the cupcake jammies she got from mommy and daddy, so much she still has them on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlEBB6-DrI/AAAAAAAAAc0/pzu-HkTlP4M/s1600-h/paige.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285330422182317746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlEBB6-DrI/AAAAAAAAAc0/pzu-HkTlP4M/s400/paige.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Paige really struggled going to sleep on Christmas Eve.  Does that surprise me??  Heck no!!  Steve finally snuggled her in our bed until she fell asleep around one.  She was thrilled with her High School Musical Barbies and Easy Bake oven.  However, she was a little disappointed that Santa didn't bring her the biggest thing on her list.  It was so sweet, it read "Moslee I wot Brady".   She misses her cousin on his mission so much!  Lucky for her, this is his last Christmas in France!  And he was sweet enough to send her and Claire presents, so I guess that made up for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Steve and I had decided to forego gifts this year and buy each other a treadmill so we could be "looking fine in 2009!"  We were both happy with our choice but were very surprised by all the snow that Santa brought with him this year.  So, after hours of shoveling and one heck of a sore back, Steve talked me into a snowblower too!  Too bad they had flown out of the stores Friday morning.  We finally got it today, so I'm sure there will be no more snow this season!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-2560529049637403787?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/2560529049637403787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=2560529049637403787' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2560529049637403787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/2560529049637403787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-highlights.html' title='Christmas Highlights'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SVlECSIVzzI/AAAAAAAAAdE/k4_ctxoAMX0/s72-c/Collage6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-6765609609739812759</id><published>2008-12-19T13:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T14:14:12.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7y2_ohI/AAAAAAAAAck/fXc7opiNA1s/s1600-h/dec08+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281608485379744274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7y2_ohI/AAAAAAAAAck/fXc7opiNA1s/s400/dec08+012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This year Claire danced in her first ever recital.  She performed at the Festival of Trees and in the Christmas recital.  Her dance was "I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas".  It is the same one that Paige performed her first year in dance.  It was even the same costume, so we got double use out of it!  (And I must admit, it was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stinkin&lt;/span&gt;' cute TWICE!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7uX7gZI/AAAAAAAAAcc/hRqRRq0IT6s/s1600-h/dec08+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281608484175708562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7uX7gZI/AAAAAAAAAcc/hRqRRq0IT6s/s400/dec08+011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I was a little unsure of how Claire would do since she will never perform for me at home.  Her first performance was darling.  She danced a little bit, but was more concerned with singing along.  We could hear her from our seats!  Steve and I couldn't stop laughing, she looked so dang cute.  Last night's recital was totally different.  She danced so well, she hardly missed a step!  Except for the part when she slammed into the back of her friend, Ali, nearly bowling them both over!  We loved watching every minute of it!  Paige sat on Steve's lap and danced right along with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7Gg40YI/AAAAAAAAAcU/mEUuQLHDM5A/s1600-h/dec08+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281608473475862914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7Gg40YI/AAAAAAAAAcU/mEUuQLHDM5A/s400/dec08+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We have been lucky to have Claire's little friend, Ali, in the same class.  They have so much fun together and it has been great to spend time with the Andersen's even though we moved away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK6stJkEI/AAAAAAAAAcM/kSR5R8ULyK8/s1600-h/recital2008+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281608466547970114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK6stJkEI/AAAAAAAAAcM/kSR5R8ULyK8/s400/recital2008+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We have also been blessed to have found Miss Tiffany.  Both the girls love her and she is so great with them.  We ran into her at Chili's after the recital and she was so sweet to stop and say "hi".  Paige is so excited to start back up again once her feet heal and Tiffany has promised to save her a spot as long as we need. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-6765609609739812759?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/6765609609739812759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=6765609609739812759' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6765609609739812759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/6765609609739812759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-want-hippopotamus-for-christmas.html' title='I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUwK7y2_ohI/AAAAAAAAAck/fXc7opiNA1s/s72-c/dec08+012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-227224486965311289</id><published>2008-12-16T16:19:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T16:37:52.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They're Gone!!!  Now what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg43DJQEJI/AAAAAAAAAcE/mQv_u9lOBO0/s1600-h/dec08+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280533081479975058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg43DJQEJI/AAAAAAAAAcE/mQv_u9lOBO0/s400/dec08+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After six long weeks of asking "Is it December 4th yet", Paige finally got her casts off! She was so excited she could hardly sleep the night before. She just kep saying, "Tomorrow I am going to be movable!" Little did she know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg42pjjyWI/AAAAAAAAAb8/2DZTuue3WBo/s1600-h/dec08+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280533074610997602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg42pjjyWI/AAAAAAAAAb8/2DZTuue3WBo/s400/dec08+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg42J4IeOI/AAAAAAAAAb0/Pp29ap2FyI0/s1600-h/dec08+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280533066107353314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg42J4IeOI/AAAAAAAAAb0/Pp29ap2FyI0/s400/dec08+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had explained to her what would happen. They would use a machine to cut off the casts, but it would not hurt her, just be noisy. But I don't think anything could have prepared her for this. She was terrified once they started cutting and was horrified at the sight (and smell!) of her legs. We knew she had lost some weight with her casts on, but her little legs were so skinny! She just kept screaming, "I'm hideous, put them back on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg41i_x2RI/AAAAAAAAAbs/QR_9Zac3Czs/s1600-h/dec08+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280533055670442258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg41i_x2RI/AAAAAAAAAbs/QR_9Zac3Czs/s400/dec08+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once the casts were off, it took four people and Steve to hold her down to scrub her legs with warm water. They found two large wounds from the incisions on her feet and instructed us to soak them everyday. (I have pictures, but they are not for the weak of hearts! They even made me a little woozy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now the real wait begins. With her feet in a different position than she has ever walked on before and her legs stiff as boards, she has to learn to walk all over again. The scabs on her feet terrify her, so she hates to have them unwrapped and soaked. She has stood a little bit, and will take a few steps, but needs to be reminded to put her heels down too. Unfortunately for her, my patience has run out and I am SO ready for her to start moving! For now, we just keep pushing her a little bit each day and continue to check up with Dr. Santora weekly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-227224486965311289?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/227224486965311289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=227224486965311289' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/227224486965311289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/227224486965311289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2008/12/theyre-gone-now-what.html' title='They&apos;re Gone!!!  Now what?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SUg43DJQEJI/AAAAAAAAAcE/mQv_u9lOBO0/s72-c/dec08+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-7596562959147614582</id><published>2008-12-08T16:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:45:00.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just one more reason to love Target!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ulcRQAjI/AAAAAAAAAbE/A-FIGO3CNqA/s1600-h/Collage5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277566296615027250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ulcRQAjI/AAAAAAAAAbE/A-FIGO3CNqA/s400/Collage5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have always had my kids pictures taken at Target simply because I felt like they did a decent job at a really great price.  They always have a coupon online for $3.99 or $4.99 a sheet plus a free 8x10.  They don't charge a sitting fee and when you pick up your pictures you get a coupon for your next visit (if you do an online survey, which I always do!)  I wanted to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bode's&lt;/span&gt; blessing pictures taken and I wanted the girls to be in them, but was hesitant considering Paige's situation.  I explained our plight when I called to make the appointment and they were so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accommodating&lt;/span&gt;!  I scheduled the appointment for November 13 as I have to keep myself busy that day every year to avoid staying home wallowing in the misery of missing my mom.  Mom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; came with me to Target for photos that day because they turned out &lt;strong&gt;perfect&lt;/strong&gt;!!  Our sweet photographer Sarah, (who I will request for eternity!) was so great to help.  Who would guess Paige is sitting in a wheelchair with bright red casts on both legs? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ulIwS_TI/AAAAAAAAAa8/o96a14Ppwiw/s1600-h/scan00042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277566291376536882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ulIwS_TI/AAAAAAAAAa8/o96a14Ppwiw/s400/scan00042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She was able to catch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bode's&lt;/span&gt; first ever smile!  Not just a gas bubble, but a true smile!  She was thrilled too.  Neither photographer had ever had that happen before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ukjfW_VI/AAAAAAAAAa0/l2cy-QqTx5U/s1600-h/scan00022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277566281373384018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ukjfW_VI/AAAAAAAAAa0/l2cy-QqTx5U/s400/scan00022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My all time favorite pic was apparently hers too because she asked my permission to display it in their studio!  When I picked up the pictures two weeks later they showed me the enlargement (I think it is 20x24) and the spot they had in mind to hang it!  She told me it would be after the holidays since it will be replacing a Christmas portrait, so come January check out the South &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Towne&lt;/span&gt; Super Target for the famous Vincent Beauties!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2839229465856949694-7596562959147614582?l=bsvincent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/feeds/7596562959147614582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2839229465856949694&amp;postID=7596562959147614582' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7596562959147614582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2839229465856949694/posts/default/7596562959147614582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bsvincent.blogspot.com/2008/12/just-one-more-reason-to-love-target.html' title='Just one more reason to love Target!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09543362283335897000</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/SJtvepYD3FI/AAAAAAAAAOw/wAuzcRd1CwI/s1600-R/brooke%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/ST2ulcRQAjI/AAAAAAAAAbE/A-FIGO3CNqA/s72-c/Collage5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2839229465856949694.post-5494386410147394951</id><published>2008-12-03T15:55:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T16:18:05.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purple Woobie</title><content type='html'>Apparently the lesson this week in nursery was about gratitude.  Claire's teacher brought her to me in Relief Society for a potty-break and she was so excited to tell me that she had drawn a picture of her "purple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt;".  When I picked her up after class I was told that they drew things that they were thankful for.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/STcOxWlah8I/AAAAAAAAAas/MsXXU7Y3aH8/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275701729526712258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/STcOxWlah8I/AAAAAAAAAas/MsXXU7Y3aH8/s400/scan0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The purple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt; actually started out as a pink &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt;.  The Relief Society had brought over a rather odd-shaped pink fleece blanket to welcome Claire into the world.  It was too small to really use so I just threw it over the back of the rocking chair in the nursery.  One day while snuggling, Claire reached back and grabbed it.  She pulled it to her face, sucked her thumb and went right to sleep.  She took such a liking to it I had to get more, just in case!  However, not just any fleece would do, I ended up calling the R.S. president to find out where it had come from.  When we got to Jo-Ann's Claire reached right out to touch the purple fleece, so that is what we got!  I just bought a little bit and cut it into two snuggle sized pieces.  We would rotate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;between&lt;/span&gt; pink and both purples, but when one purple got lost, the pink one lost its luster and Claire wanted nothing to do with it.  We have tried to buy more "back-up" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;woobies&lt;/span&gt;, but they just aren't the same.  The way this one curls up on the edges just so is irreplaceable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/STcOw9a2HgI/AAAAAAAAAak/Zrsw2pPy48Q/s1600-h/november08+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275701722771496450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dG3FMuVusLQ/STcOw9a2HgI/AAAAAAAAAak/Zrsw2pPy48Q/s400/november08+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The purple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt; is obviously an important part of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Boo's&lt;/span&gt; life.  She doesn't sleep without it and nothing fixes tears better!  Over the summer we had a real scare with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt;.  We had been up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;to&lt;/span&gt; visit friends in Clinton and didn't get home until after midnight.  In putting Claire to bed we realized the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt; was gone.  The tantrum of all tantrums &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ensued&lt;/span&gt;.  We searched the entire house and retraced our steps of the day.  The last time I remembered seeing it was at lunchtime at Wendy's.  Daddy saved the day by calling Wendy's to see if we had left it there and sure enough, there it was!  The dining area was closed, but since you can "Eat great, even late" Steve went through the drive-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt;.  Claire was so thrilled to see him walk through the door with the purple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;woobie&lt;/span&gt;!  I guess it is part of her babyhood, but we just can't let go!  I know she won't take it to kindergarten, so what is it hurting?  It's just pa
