<?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-1003229334638179054</id><updated>2012-02-08T18:27:15.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Smith Clan</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>249</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4656304202832527451</id><published>2012-01-31T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T06:21:01.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FHE: Cookies and Coloring</title><content type='html'>Sunday night, James suggested coloring a big picture for Family Home Evening this week. So, right after dinner, I ran out to the corner store and bought a big roll of craft paper and some store brand thin mints. We taped the paper to the table, grabbed every coloring utensil we own, and let the girls go nuts. So much fun. It entertained the girls for the better part of an hour, especially with James and I sitting right there with them coloring as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sERluRhkbqw/TyfuvB-oRlI/AAAAAAAABIU/upAWmvsh-7k/s1600/SANY0030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sERluRhkbqw/TyfuvB-oRlI/AAAAAAAABIU/upAWmvsh-7k/s320/SANY0030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703789944840406610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan cracked us up. I opened one of the rolls of thin mints and dumped them on the table and both girls immediately began collecting a pile. Megan determinedly picked up 9 cookies, stacking them and reminding me of Gus from Disney's Cinderella with how she attempted to hold the stack with a single hand and found her hand just a tad too small but still stubbornly trying to find a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MiVamgmSBIQ/TyfuuXLRTNI/AAAAAAAABII/2HUV9I-dfZk/s1600/SANY0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MiVamgmSBIQ/TyfuuXLRTNI/AAAAAAAABII/2HUV9I-dfZk/s320/SANY0031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703789933350702290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Despite the bored look on Megan's face, she was as into the activity as Cadence. Notice how she took a bite out of each cookie and lined them up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-auVyBptMH1E/TyfuuEZ00oI/AAAAAAAABH8/wShj3QrLJls/s1600/SANY0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-auVyBptMH1E/TyfuuEZ00oI/AAAAAAAABH8/wShj3QrLJls/s320/SANY0032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703789928311476866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;The paper is still on the table, too. So guess what the girls started doing once they finished breakfast? :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another thought, been seriously tempted by &lt;a href="http://houston.craigslist.org/pet/2823032115.html"&gt;this offer&lt;/a&gt; for the past few days...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-4656304202832527451?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4656304202832527451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/fhe-cookies-and-coloring.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4656304202832527451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4656304202832527451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/fhe-cookies-and-coloring.html' title='FHE: Cookies and Coloring'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sERluRhkbqw/TyfuvB-oRlI/AAAAAAAABIU/upAWmvsh-7k/s72-c/SANY0030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3220506202448500373</id><published>2012-01-26T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T06:47:29.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Swing Set</title><content type='html'>One of James's co-workers bought his daughter a new swing set for Christmas because she'd outgrown the one she already had. He mentioned it to James a couple months ago, and then last week brought it up again. We'd been talking about getting one anyway, so this was too great of an opportunity to pass up. So last night, the set was delivered and set up and this morning the girls were ecstatic to discover the mini park now just outside their door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ACJMDayT1RM/TyFk_V6jxBI/AAAAAAAABHc/YSzmS9TvaBY/s1600/SANY0027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ACJMDayT1RM/TyFk_V6jxBI/AAAAAAAABHc/YSzmS9TvaBY/s320/SANY0027.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701949642605052946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cFz-Cfz2RdU/TyFlOLOYVhI/AAAAAAAABHo/UrfGmC8DKb4/s1600/SANY0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cFz-Cfz2RdU/TyFlOLOYVhI/AAAAAAAABHo/UrfGmC8DKb4/s320/SANY0029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701949897433437714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M3PIQQD_fgg/TyFk-00EnAI/AAAAAAAABHU/Ba08cnp0634/s1600/SANY0028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M3PIQQD_fgg/TyFk-00EnAI/AAAAAAAABHU/Ba08cnp0634/s320/SANY0028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701949633719475202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Obviously, it's used, but it doesn't need to be brightly colored and new to be fun, as the girls are quickly proving to any who might watch them! It's the perfect size for the girls (though Megan's about an inch too short to get on the swing by herself). We are loving having a yard for the girls to play in, even more so now that there's a swing set for them to play on. Now, if only we had a dog to nip at their heels as they're racing around...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3220506202448500373?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3220506202448500373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-swing-set.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3220506202448500373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3220506202448500373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-swing-set.html' title='New Swing Set'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ACJMDayT1RM/TyFk_V6jxBI/AAAAAAAABHc/YSzmS9TvaBY/s72-c/SANY0027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7215437252417571192</id><published>2012-01-22T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T17:49:40.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Sunbeam Update</title><content type='html'>We finally had success.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the first time, Cadence went into the primary room without myself or James anywhere in view. In fact, apparently, her teacher spotted James and Cadence dropping Megan off at nursery and took Cadence off of James's hands right then and there. AND, Cadence went willingly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we did peek through the window into the primary room she wasn't ecstatic, but she wasn't crying either. She did spend a little time in her teacher's lap (when James peeked), but for awhile she was happy sitting in her own chair (when I peeked).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After primary, we were informed she did wonderfully and even got up to do the motions with some of the songs. Her favorite primary song is currently "Once There Was a Snowman". Whenever we ask about songs in primary, that's the one she mentions and I heard them singing it while we were sitting in the foyer. So, I think we've finally broken through this problem and she's going to enjoy primary again. And, hopefully, in a few weeks, they'll have me successfully moved to senior primary so I don't feel like a complete slacker missing sharing time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, yay, Cadence!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7215437252417571192?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7215437252417571192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/another-sunbeam-update.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7215437252417571192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7215437252417571192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/another-sunbeam-update.html' title='Another Sunbeam Update'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7097168653528934678</id><published>2012-01-11T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T14:32:37.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playroom and stuff</title><content type='html'>When we first moved into this house, I knew I wanted to set aside one of the rooms for the girls' playroom. It just so happened it was the biggest room in the house. For the first few weeks, it was pretty sparse. A few buckets of toys on one wall and their play kitchen in the corner and the spare TV in another.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls, of course, didn't mind, but it was pretty pathetic looking. So, over the past few months, I've been organizing, buying furniture, and reorganizing their room to be more of what I'd envisioned. At least, as much as I can do without being able to paint the walls and such (Unfortunately, the texture on the walls makes it nearly impossible to put up the vinyl dots I loved so much on the apartment walls). Anyway, finally, it's a nice place to play and hang out. At least in my opinion. With the addition of the futon (which worked out great for our guests this past month!) and some new shelves, I am loving the end results.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, my Ikea "hack". I was so bummed when the spice rack was not in stock at my local Ikea and probably never would be, since I loved the hack others did for that. But I stumbled upon another "hack" and ended up with these! I am in love. Though the girls have so many books, we probably need another shelf. Not sure where I'd put that. The top shelf is already almost too tall for Megan to reach. The wire shelf under it is mostly empty, but you can never have too much storage, so I wasn't ready to throw this one out yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uZKpwVLsuLY/Tw4I3kWNcBI/AAAAAAAABGA/2mBVZSTk5mw/s1600/SANY0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uZKpwVLsuLY/Tw4I3kWNcBI/AAAAAAAABGA/2mBVZSTk5mw/s320/SANY0013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696500329412915218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Along the opposite wall is most of the play area. We bought the shelving unit from Ikea as well when I fell in love with it at someone else's house. I wanted baskets to match the white one we already had, but I couldn't find it in stock. Go figure, after checking all the big name stores and buying the ones I ended up with, I did find the bins at our corner store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ses8Zfvmzhk/Tw4I3bPGcOI/AAAAAAAABF4/Y8k_-3j9bX0/s1600/SANY0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ses8Zfvmzhk/Tw4I3bPGcOI/AAAAAAAABF4/Y8k_-3j9bX0/s320/SANY0014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696500326967177442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And here's the room from the other angle, with my two favorite shelves and the TV. The stand the TV is currently on was a $4 purchase from Goodwill. So happy with it (the TV was one our broken filing cabinet before that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3b_TXH2Pdg/Tw4I3Js0uaI/AAAAAAAABFs/3B0kSvTM8go/s1600/SANY0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t3b_TXH2Pdg/Tw4I3Js0uaI/AAAAAAAABFs/3B0kSvTM8go/s320/SANY0018.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696500322260007330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Really, all that's missing is a nice rug to go in the middle of the room. I just haven't found one I want yet. Plus, it wasn't high enough on my wants list to put any real money into. Now it's at the top of my list for this room, so I may be willing to spend a little more money on one (This is how my brain works. Unless the item is at the top of my priority list for purchases, I'm not willing to spend more than $2 on it. I'll spend more once it's moved up, though.). I'm also looking for some wall art ideas. Unfortunately, the letters I painted became toys and most of them are lost or broken.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now some cute pictures of the girls doing what they love the most: coloring. Actually, I'm thinking of putting a string of clothespins on one of the walls to hang their art work. That'd be some decent wall-art for a playroom, right?&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3U2PLnHm_6Y/Tw4LYY9hetI/AAAAAAAABG0/OsgwGUERSv4/s1600/SANY0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3U2PLnHm_6Y/Tw4LYY9hetI/AAAAAAAABG0/OsgwGUERSv4/s320/SANY0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696503092315519698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TqILJ10b5UM/Tw4LYMWS-uI/AAAAAAAABGo/AHGKLaIA55c/s1600/SANY0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TqILJ10b5UM/Tw4LYMWS-uI/AAAAAAAABGo/AHGKLaIA55c/s320/SANY0007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696503088929766114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7cNE285YxJY/Tw4LXWFGFmI/AAAAAAAABGc/KmQgGR9Hjw4/s1600/SANY0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7cNE285YxJY/Tw4LXWFGFmI/AAAAAAAABGc/KmQgGR9Hjw4/s320/SANY0005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696503074362103394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pxw-x7cfny0/Tw4LXa1itTI/AAAAAAAABGQ/wVFTx5aMznc/s1600/SANY0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pxw-x7cfny0/Tw4LXa1itTI/AAAAAAAABGQ/wVFTx5aMznc/s320/SANY0008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696503075639047474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and for those that want an update on Cadence and Sunbeams:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This past Sunday it looked like this week in Sunbeams wouldn't be any better than last week. Luckily, my team teacher was in town this week, so when it became clear Cadence would NOT be calming down, I practically ran from the room and spent the rest of sharing time hovering in the hallway and peeking through the window into the primary room. My team teacher was, of course, extremely understanding, and the Sunbeam teacher immediately picked Cadence up, since she was the only child actually having a hard time with it. I stayed out of sight until primary was dismissed then rejoined my class and when I picked Cadence up at the end of the day, she was jumping and talking to her teachers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I'll be staying out of the primary room for the next month or so while she adjusts. My team teacher is again fully supportive. Hopefully, she doesn't need to miss church anytime soon! Once Cadence has adjusted, I'll try rejoining sharing time again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7097168653528934678?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7097168653528934678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/playroom-and-stuff.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7097168653528934678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7097168653528934678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/playroom-and-stuff.html' title='Playroom and stuff'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uZKpwVLsuLY/Tw4I3kWNcBI/AAAAAAAABGA/2mBVZSTk5mw/s72-c/SANY0013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-9099041515441585317</id><published>2012-01-02T05:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T05:57:53.692-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunbeam Cadence</title><content type='html'>Technically, this past Sunday was Cadence's first Sunday as a Sunbeam!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, we have decided not to count it. We were one of the first ones to arrive at the primary classroom and so she quickly ditched the empty Sunbeam row to come sit in my lap where I awaited the arrival of my CTR 4s. However, she never left my lap, frequently asked for snacks from my purse (I have since learned I do NOT share my classroom with a senior primary class so I can leave my bags there to avoid this problem in the future), and refused to participate. She even got upset when they did not sing the songs in the order she wanted, though she knew all but one song already. I tried coaxing her to at least sit in a chair at my side, but we had no luck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, she took up so much of my attention primary presidency had to come help with my class, well, one specific child who just wanted to participate as much as possible during sharing time. Next week should be better. I'll have my team teacher. Of course, next week I should also expect all 10 of our CTR 4s...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our other big problem: The Sunbeam teacher wasn't there, which meant I taught the Sunbeams as well. This went about as expected. After several minutes of attempting to teach with a fussy 3 year old in my lap, I left my class with the last minute sub/helper and one of the parents who was having similar problems with HIS new Sunbeam to hand Cadence off to James so I could at least get through my lesson. She came back for the last 15-20 minutes, but still insisted on my lap and I did have to leave the room again when she became inconsolable near the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We survived. If barely. I managed to play "Simon Says" while holding on to her to keep the class busy for the last few minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next week will be her first REAL Sunday as a Sunbeam. This past week was just our practice run (though if the practice run is any indication, we're in trouble). We also learned James has to have Cadence with him as he drops of Megan, since part of Cadence's problem was worrying about her missing sister. Megan, naturally, forgot all her "where's my sister" issues not long after the nursery teacher showed up and was perfectly content in nursery on her own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-9099041515441585317?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/9099041515441585317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/sunbeam-cadence.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/9099041515441585317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/9099041515441585317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/sunbeam-cadence.html' title='Sunbeam Cadence'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-420529161290254069</id><published>2012-01-02T05:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T05:37:35.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Galveston Island Beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;(Don't forget to check below for another entry about our visit to the Houston Zoo)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Another day of too much time off and nothing to do had us loading the girls into the car for the hour-long drive to Galveston Island Beach. Obviously, late December is NOT the BEST time for visiting a beach, but we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We walked along the shoreline for a bit pointing out seashells for the girls, but these held little interest. I feared the trip had been a complete waste of time as neither girl seemed too interested. But a suggestion of taking off socks and shoes changed everything. At first the girls were hesitant about the soft sand under their bare feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v9sDb5m7XlE/TwGxmNF4FjI/AAAAAAAABFg/rPW9B1euP7U/s1600/SANY0144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v9sDb5m7XlE/TwGxmNF4FjI/AAAAAAAABFg/rPW9B1euP7U/s320/SANY0144.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026673880471090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But it didn't take long for them to take off and thoroughly enjoy themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D8vo0h8_YO0/TwGxl25I6II/AAAAAAAABFU/VKfJruDTFrk/s1600/SANY0146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D8vo0h8_YO0/TwGxl25I6II/AAAAAAAABFU/VKfJruDTFrk/s320/SANY0146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026667921467522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4fdWBvXVdQY/TwGxlpHdgwI/AAAAAAAABFI/0gV7qquHk78/s1600/SANY0150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4fdWBvXVdQY/TwGxlpHdgwI/AAAAAAAABFI/0gV7qquHk78/s320/SANY0150.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026664223441666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fKiX0KAziA/TwGxbHvN7nI/AAAAAAAABE8/yuiPsPDg-ZM/s1600/SANY0151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fKiX0KAziA/TwGxbHvN7nI/AAAAAAAABE8/yuiPsPDg-ZM/s320/SANY0151.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026483464695410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mB_h9dIGjfg/TwGxaQLCIMI/AAAAAAAABE0/3Gigipkwyyo/s1600/SANY0152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mB_h9dIGjfg/TwGxaQLCIMI/AAAAAAAABE0/3Gigipkwyyo/s320/SANY0152.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026468548976834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-75oD4iDkdQk/TwGxaEuQLPI/AAAAAAAABEg/tKLWCT4BjBc/s1600/SANY0155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-75oD4iDkdQk/TwGxaEuQLPI/AAAAAAAABEg/tKLWCT4BjBc/s320/SANY0155.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026465475472626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiwexqAW694/TwGxZ6AaZ2I/AAAAAAAABEY/HUVp1WdWSOw/s1600/SANY0156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiwexqAW694/TwGxZ6AaZ2I/AAAAAAAABEY/HUVp1WdWSOw/s320/SANY0156.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026462598850402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had to include this picture of Megan and the seagulls to tell a funny story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6B2mmgzK01A/TwGxZ67mTlI/AAAAAAAABEM/rIrXrrDTu1E/s1600/SANY0158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6B2mmgzK01A/TwGxZ67mTlI/AAAAAAAABEM/rIrXrrDTu1E/s320/SANY0158.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693026462847094354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By the way, I now hate sea gulls. Rather than just toss the remainder of our lunches away, I thought it'd be a good idea to toss the pieces to the birds. What commenced was something from a horror film. As soon as they realized I was tossing food, they all took to wing and came straight for me, hovering overhead. I tried to remain calm and continue tossing pieces, but that only brought greater, hungry numbers closer and closer as they all sought an edge to pluck the food I tossed right out of the sky. I panicked after a few tosses and threw the entire handful of food as far from me as possible and ran (well, to save what little dignity I had left I just walked at a near trot as quickly as possible). Several of them followed me for awhile before accepting I had nothing left. They still hovered nearby for far too long and I have vowed to never feed the gulls again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-420529161290254069?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/420529161290254069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/galveston-island-beach.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/420529161290254069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/420529161290254069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/galveston-island-beach.html' title='Galveston Island Beach'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v9sDb5m7XlE/TwGxmNF4FjI/AAAAAAAABFg/rPW9B1euP7U/s72-c/SANY0144.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5140954281398824854</id><published>2012-01-02T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T05:28:22.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Houston Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;What's a family to do when Daddy has a lot of time off? Go to the zoo, of course! Probably should have gone before they raised admissions prices and Megan was old enough to require a ticket, but that really didn't matter in the end. It was a nice weather day (high 60s and sunny!), practically perfect for a day of animal perusing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls were a little restless in the stroller, wondering what all the hullabaloo was about around them with people everywhere and nothing of interest in sight, except for some ticket booths and trees. Once we pulled into the first exhibit, though, they were excited and no longer content to hang out in the stroller and just look around. The aquarium was our first stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I8Qd0Tn7ZXo/TwGuikZekNI/AAAAAAAABEA/e8rWfFXkkZE/s1600/SANY0088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I8Qd0Tn7ZXo/TwGuikZekNI/AAAAAAAABEA/e8rWfFXkkZE/s320/SANY0088.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693023312882340050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We got close to a lot of animals throughout the day, but I think being this close to the elephants was amazing. You really got an idea of just how big they were. And how smart, as one of the zookeepers came out and offered them pieces of bread to do tricks (like wave their ears and pose)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1uYcB3De-W8/TwGuiUNDQBI/AAAAAAAABD0/yFEfG5xo-bg/s1600/SANY0090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1uYcB3De-W8/TwGuiUNDQBI/AAAAAAAABD0/yFEfG5xo-bg/s320/SANY0090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693023308535250962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G87CdBQzGns/TwGuh_XI-mI/AAAAAAAABDs/2ALfasYFFh8/s1600/SANY0091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G87CdBQzGns/TwGuh_XI-mI/AAAAAAAABDs/2ALfasYFFh8/s320/SANY0091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693023302940424802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We saw several other animals, of course. That's what the zoo's for. The girls sometimes just pressed their faces against the fence just because that's what they were supposed to do, though they couldn't see any animals of interest at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lwa_oZvL0lU/TwGuhr9wmLI/AAAAAAAABDc/bl4Xu91miig/s1600/SANY0113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lwa_oZvL0lU/TwGuhr9wmLI/AAAAAAAABDc/bl4Xu91miig/s320/SANY0113.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693023297733695666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not far past the elephants was the African area. Complete with a mock tribal village, drums to play on, monkeys, and giraffes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xX6KW0quy_4/TwGuG-Vzw8I/AAAAAAAABDI/Nvnh7Wi28ZI/s1600/SANY0116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xX6KW0quy_4/TwGuG-Vzw8I/AAAAAAAABDI/Nvnh7Wi28ZI/s320/SANY0116.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022838809936834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mYYwv__DRt0/TwGuGWv9OPI/AAAAAAAABDA/aVvFpK8gHEM/s1600/SANY0120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mYYwv__DRt0/TwGuGWv9OPI/AAAAAAAABDA/aVvFpK8gHEM/s320/SANY0120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022828182190322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gn7HUkwTPmI/TwGuF4NfazI/AAAAAAAABC0/7nCnG0F2SH0/s1600/SANY0125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gn7HUkwTPmI/TwGuF4NfazI/AAAAAAAABC0/7nCnG0F2SH0/s320/SANY0125.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022819984567090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-36chIzN_Fiw/TwGuFuxSN9I/AAAAAAAABCk/STLE-5n4_JU/s1600/SANY0127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-36chIzN_Fiw/TwGuFuxSN9I/AAAAAAAABCk/STLE-5n4_JU/s320/SANY0127.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022817450342354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We strolled past the lions and tigers (no bears, oh my!), but the big sleeping cats held little interest to the girls and we eventually found ourselves in the children's zoo area where the girls zeroed in on their all time favorite thing: the slide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lomhur3W8tI/TwGuFgDLvLI/AAAAAAAABCc/o_ugmVog048/s1600/SANY0131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lomhur3W8tI/TwGuFgDLvLI/AAAAAAAABCc/o_ugmVog048/s320/SANY0131.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022813498883250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Before we left, I made a point in dragging them away from the slide and going to the petting zoo where each kid could take a brush and brush the goats. Despite initial protest, the girls LOVED wandering around and brushing the goats. Cadence made a point of brushing every single one at least once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GJEsid_ubrE/TwGtozqEKlI/AAAAAAAABCQ/GbYsA8uzJpo/s1600/SANY0135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GJEsid_ubrE/TwGtozqEKlI/AAAAAAAABCQ/GbYsA8uzJpo/s320/SANY0135.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022320546032210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fPQLE1sF3Mc/TwGtoPFdYjI/AAAAAAAABCE/QotpnFOFlAI/s1600/SANY0136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fPQLE1sF3Mc/TwGtoPFdYjI/AAAAAAAABCE/QotpnFOFlAI/s320/SANY0136.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022310728819250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And, of course, once the girls saw these statues that had to climb on and ride them like "horsies", their new favorite past time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rBczpmixexU/TwGtnwJwJ0I/AAAAAAAABB4/p-_4Hz24Kvw/s1600/SANY0138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rBczpmixexU/TwGtnwJwJ0I/AAAAAAAABB4/p-_4Hz24Kvw/s320/SANY0138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022302425327426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VPdHQqLYnTw/TwGtnRIyCMI/AAAAAAAABBs/OE3PGchro94/s1600/SANY0140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VPdHQqLYnTw/TwGtnRIyCMI/AAAAAAAABBs/OE3PGchro94/s320/SANY0140.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022294099757250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And when I saw this picture of Megan, I couldn't help but think of a similar one I took 4 1/2 years ago in San Diego. Like mother, like daughter, eh? (Now if only we had one of Nana sitting on a turtle!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LJvxwxgzdHU/TwGtnHR2icI/AAAAAAAABBg/fm1A-e37J8M/s1600/rawhode0719.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LJvxwxgzdHU/TwGtnHR2icI/AAAAAAAABBg/fm1A-e37J8M/s320/rawhode0719.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693022291453446594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5140954281398824854?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5140954281398824854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/houston-zoo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5140954281398824854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5140954281398824854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2012/01/houston-zoo.html' title='Houston Zoo'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I8Qd0Tn7ZXo/TwGuikZekNI/AAAAAAAABEA/e8rWfFXkkZE/s72-c/SANY0088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2578935801359682518</id><published>2011-12-25T17:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T17:34:58.648-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Christmas morning started bright an early, though I was able to convince Cadence 6am was still bedtime and get another 45 minutes of laying in bed before we actually started Christmas morning. The night before, the girls helped me make cookies and set out a plate for Santa. They got new pajamas to wear and I made the pumpkin pies and spinach dip for Christmas day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls were initially unhappy when I didn't immediately give in to demands for breakfast as they wandered out into the living room, but eventually they discovered the treat-filled fuzzy stockings Santa left on the couch for them to go through an feasted on a few chocolates before we confiscated the rest. They also got to open one present each before we did bathtime to get ready for church. Can you guess what Cadence's present was before she opened it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tlbqKRHbVDE/TvfLGlytndI/AAAAAAAABBI/L7CnepMvzzk/s1600/SANY0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tlbqKRHbVDE/TvfLGlytndI/AAAAAAAABBI/L7CnepMvzzk/s320/SANY0063.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239968290381266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B2lsS1LvRWE/TvfLGd34DrI/AAAAAAAABA8/6ixIeKejsMc/s1600/SANY0066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B2lsS1LvRWE/TvfLGd34DrI/AAAAAAAABA8/6ixIeKejsMc/s320/SANY0066.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239966164553394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5ajQD4SvX9U/TvfK-_m6EjI/AAAAAAAABAw/gvE0p_HWY2w/s1600/SANY0065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5ajQD4SvX9U/TvfK-_m6EjI/AAAAAAAABAw/gvE0p_HWY2w/s320/SANY0065.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239837781234226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As messy as the living room was after going through the stockings, it wasn't half the mess it would be a few hours later:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-47JCOW6HPR4/TvfK-AGwziI/AAAAAAAABAk/_C_CGV7nBA0/s1600/SANY0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-47JCOW6HPR4/TvfK-AGwziI/AAAAAAAABAk/_C_CGV7nBA0/s320/SANY0067.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239820734975522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a quick bath, the girls got dressed into their new Christmas dresses. I picked out Megan's, but Cadence chose her own. We went to the store Friday morning and when she saw the blue, sparkly dress she refused to accept any other and begged for the blue one. How could I say no? The glittered ended up all over the pew at church, but we were able to dust the worst of it off before we left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xovh0gN5Bkk/TvfK95mM9mI/AAAAAAAABAY/yBQvJ-K0Kv0/s1600/SANY0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xovh0gN5Bkk/TvfK95mM9mI/AAAAAAAABAY/yBQvJ-K0Kv0/s320/SANY0068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239818987796066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I91QCvWOiS4/TvfK9PnG0CI/AAAAAAAABAM/69KViuNM8NI/s1600/SANY0069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I91QCvWOiS4/TvfK9PnG0CI/AAAAAAAABAM/69KViuNM8NI/s320/SANY0069.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239807717298210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RiQ_LjkRLWk/TvfK8x7nm9I/AAAAAAAABAA/mGGBX339lk8/s1600/SANY0075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RiQ_LjkRLWk/TvfK8x7nm9I/AAAAAAAABAA/mGGBX339lk8/s320/SANY0075.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239799750269906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After church, we came home and unwrapped the rest of the presents. The girls had a large number of them, thanks to family and friends adding to the mix. Included into today's haul: "Cars" and "Finding Nemo", magna doodles, oversized stuffed animals, a writing toy for Cadence, a remote control car, a talking Mater truck, and a walking, talking toy puppy for Megan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QtPuWdS56f0/TvfKj0kIiQI/AAAAAAAAA_0/Xz8fZ9aqphU/s1600/SANY0085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QtPuWdS56f0/TvfKj0kIiQI/AAAAAAAAA_0/Xz8fZ9aqphU/s320/SANY0085.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239370960341250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XX9eY_DhIFM/TvfKjfUXsJI/AAAAAAAAA_k/DbzrrNeESBM/s1600/SANY0080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XX9eY_DhIFM/TvfKjfUXsJI/AAAAAAAAA_k/DbzrrNeESBM/s320/SANY0080.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239365257080978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDY3M0o6XnU/TvfKi1IjIgI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/tr94Ei2-0dw/s1600/SANY0076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDY3M0o6XnU/TvfKi1IjIgI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/tr94Ei2-0dw/s320/SANY0076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239353933210114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OCpSoPCBW80/TvfKiflugfI/AAAAAAAAA_M/mtBsMmBr2fM/s1600/SANY0079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OCpSoPCBW80/TvfKiflugfI/AAAAAAAAA_M/mtBsMmBr2fM/s320/SANY0079.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239348150010354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsgZ_kwaVuw/TvfKiObTpQI/AAAAAAAAA_A/Lgc4rhQyktU/s1600/SANY0087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsgZ_kwaVuw/TvfKiObTpQI/AAAAAAAAA_A/Lgc4rhQyktU/s320/SANY0087.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690239343542904066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;James and I enjoyed our presents as well. :-) James bought me the entire Harry Potter collection on DVD, plus Ella Enchanted on DVD (I obviously already own, and still read often, the book), plus some beautiful chenille scarves to wear when it gets really cold outside with the wool jacket I got last year. The girls and I bought James a pocket knife he's been wanting for awhile, plus a few DVDs and a new game to play.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and James got a new chair, though, that wasn't Christmas. That was just because we wanted one, lol. Picked it up Friday after work and we're already in love. A La-Z-Boy rocking chair. None better! (Really, this is just an excuse to post a picture of my handsome husband interacting with our kids. He's so great with them!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDeEbdk0HjE/TvfOhjgf7LI/AAAAAAAABBU/vgHBdKvS1bs/s1600/SANY0082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDeEbdk0HjE/TvfOhjgf7LI/AAAAAAAABBU/vgHBdKvS1bs/s320/SANY0082.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690243730068466866" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas dinner was another success, though the girls have torn the place apart with their parents distracted. Ham, sweet potatoes, rolls and stuffing. Pumpkin pie awaits once our stomachs settle. We have three of them sitting in our fridge... Leftovers, anyone?&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/1003229334638179054-2578935801359682518?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2578935801359682518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-2011.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2578935801359682518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2578935801359682518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-2011.html' title='Christmas 2011'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tlbqKRHbVDE/TvfLGlytndI/AAAAAAAABBI/L7CnepMvzzk/s72-c/SANY0063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5344249945282696304</id><published>2011-12-22T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T14:01:13.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing in the Leaves</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The tree in our front yard decided to drop most of its leaves over the past week or two, leaving our front yard &lt;i&gt;covered&lt;/i&gt; in leaves. The girls &lt;i&gt;love&lt;/i&gt; the leaves crunching under their feet whenever they go outside. Cadence recently learned how to open the front door on her own and the two of them escaped into the leaves the first chance they got and were having so much fun with stomping through the leaves, kicking them and throwing them around I just had to take a few pictures to share their enthusiasm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OlQBMXN0KbI/TvOnmKrHUuI/AAAAAAAAA-0/hk0qxJu9R14/s1600/SANY0058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OlQBMXN0KbI/TvOnmKrHUuI/AAAAAAAAA-0/hk0qxJu9R14/s320/SANY0058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689075028441125602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eSNkl3C8gEI/TvOnlrSMwQI/AAAAAAAAA-s/-9MN0_R5L8w/s1600/SANY0059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eSNkl3C8gEI/TvOnlrSMwQI/AAAAAAAAA-s/-9MN0_R5L8w/s320/SANY0059.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689075020015124738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o3Oz5-1oFDo/TvOnlcO6cUI/AAAAAAAAA-c/P9jdDYC5Twg/s1600/SANY0060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o3Oz5-1oFDo/TvOnlcO6cUI/AAAAAAAAA-c/P9jdDYC5Twg/s320/SANY0060.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689075015974809922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unfortunately, it rained pretty hard last night, so the leaves aren't quite so crunchy today. They'll dry out though, and the girls will get to enjoy it again soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5344249945282696304?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5344249945282696304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/playing-in-leaves.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5344249945282696304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5344249945282696304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/playing-in-leaves.html' title='Playing in the Leaves'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OlQBMXN0KbI/TvOnmKrHUuI/AAAAAAAAA-0/hk0qxJu9R14/s72-c/SANY0058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3857791669007725045</id><published>2011-12-21T06:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T07:03:30.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awaiting Christmas</title><content type='html'>We've had quite a week around here. Aunt Robyn came to visit. Wouldn't you know it? I didn't get a SINGLE picture of her with her nieces! We're both such slackers. But we had a blast nonetheless. The girls adored having someone else to give them nonstop attention. They didn't seem to care when Aunt Robyn walked away at the airport but when we got back to the car and she still wasn't with us, they realized something was now different again and were both rather sad as they repeated "no more Aunt Robyn" while getting buckled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't do anything spectacular. Robyn babysat one day so James and I could sneak way for a child-free date. We went out to lunch and a movie and did Christmas shopping for the girls. On Monday, we did go check out Ikea and then Yogurtland (at Robyn's request). The girls LOVED the frozen yogurt. Too bad the nearest one is too far away to be a regular thing. Totally affordable and tasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K4hNqSOdnWQ/TvHwYtUkEXI/AAAAAAAAA98/8I8YYKHz5jk/s1600/SANY0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K4hNqSOdnWQ/TvHwYtUkEXI/AAAAAAAAA98/8I8YYKHz5jk/s320/SANY0039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688592111619019122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-234VNctvQ2c/TvHwYT_q0ZI/AAAAAAAAA90/lvzu8k3NrRM/s1600/SANY0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-234VNctvQ2c/TvHwYT_q0ZI/AAAAAAAAA90/lvzu8k3NrRM/s320/SANY0042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688592104820494738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday night, we did a little more holiday inspired stuff. I spent Sunday night snarling and throwing things as the icing refused to set up, but after taking a break and letting the icing set a bit more, I was then able to successfully assemble the house so it was all ready for the girls to decorate. We opted for just smearing the roof with icing and letting the girls go nuts. They had a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bzWoEeSi2fg/TvHwXzvo0vI/AAAAAAAAA9s/BhLmSqKFFB0/s1600/SANY0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bzWoEeSi2fg/TvHwXzvo0vI/AAAAAAAAA9s/BhLmSqKFFB0/s320/SANY0043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688592096163320562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkpOlsDTmh0/TvHwXLrPcBI/AAAAAAAAA9c/s4URSuxXwUA/s1600/SANY0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkpOlsDTmh0/TvHwXLrPcBI/AAAAAAAAA9c/s4URSuxXwUA/s320/SANY0054.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688592085407461394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mV-XtYMlqyg/TvHwW_hDbBI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/bleq9YrC1EQ/s1600/SANY0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mV-XtYMlqyg/TvHwW_hDbBI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/bleq9YrC1EQ/s320/SANY0057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688592082143505426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is only a few days away! Looking forward to it. We've been very blessed this season. Several others have thought of our family and the girls are going to be very spoiled. I should remember to snap pictures Christmas morning. We'll be doing stockings first thing in the morning, then church (just Sacrament meeting), then home for the unwrapping of the rest of the presents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3857791669007725045?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3857791669007725045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/awaiting-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3857791669007725045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3857791669007725045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/awaiting-christmas.html' title='Awaiting Christmas'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K4hNqSOdnWQ/TvHwYtUkEXI/AAAAAAAAA98/8I8YYKHz5jk/s72-c/SANY0039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3237337926152527694</id><published>2011-12-13T04:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T05:02:27.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Tree &amp; Other things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;As promised, Christmas tree decorating pictures! Okay, not exactly as promised. I'll be honest. We decorated Sunday night and I totally forgot to take pictures as I untangled ornament hooks and re-hooked some ornaments. However, I never put the bin the ornaments go in away, so Monday morning Cadence decided she was "done" and began putting the ornaments away for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So these are actually pictures of Christmas tree decorating, take 2 (okay, so take 3, since Cadence attempted the exact same thing the night before, so we'd decorated it twice Sunday night)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/---MawYIxGv0/TudKryG_inI/AAAAAAAAA9A/3FwyheDIgZ0/s1600/SANY0029.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/---MawYIxGv0/TudKryG_inI/AAAAAAAAA9A/3FwyheDIgZ0/s320/SANY0029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685595170624473714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan's contribution to the whole ornament hanging thing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RAFbFJK0P-8/TudKrMLpDpI/AAAAAAAAA84/fTzkCHePd8c/s1600/SANY0030.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RAFbFJK0P-8/TudKrMLpDpI/AAAAAAAAA84/fTzkCHePd8c/s320/SANY0030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685595160443424402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lrytVC9wfTE/TudKq3mAMjI/AAAAAAAAA8o/jGZgz5_afsE/s1600/SANY0031.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lrytVC9wfTE/TudKq3mAMjI/AAAAAAAAA8o/jGZgz5_afsE/s320/SANY0031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685595154916848178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zf2dVmpLWpw/TudKqLq3vMI/AAAAAAAAA8g/i42f9nZf5DA/s1600/SANY0032.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zf2dVmpLWpw/TudKqLq3vMI/AAAAAAAAA8g/i42f9nZf5DA/s320/SANY0032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685595143126105282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The completed project (though my flash makes the lights look pathetic, lol). There are a lot of them though and they're multi-colored. There's a green jingle-bell ornament near the top that is Megan's special ornament. And the big blue one near the center of the tree was Cadence's pick. The rest are the boring ones we had leftover from previous Christmases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QUP4P8Jn7V4/TudKp2zFNxI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/9lgr8T2m7CA/s1600/SANY0035.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QUP4P8Jn7V4/TudKp2zFNxI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/9lgr8T2m7CA/s320/SANY0035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685595137523398418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, about a week ago the girls and I went to get pictures taken. Originally, I intended the whole thing to be James's Christmas present, but after a fiasco with my coupon and me ending up spending more than originally expected and then using the refund to pay for holiday cards, I told James about the whole thing.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of, Lifetouch, whoever they're associated with, generally have good customer service. When I complained to them about our experience at JCPenney awhile ago, they sent me coupons for MAJOR savings as an apology. And when I emailed them about the problems with my coupon at Target, they sent me a check for the amount I shouldn't have paid (Of course, by then I'd already sorted the situation out, so I'll be taking the check right back to the studio when it arrives). It may take them a few days to respond, but they DO respond.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, below are a few pictures. There are more of the girls, of course, but the cutest ones are included in the holiday cards I ordered (If you want one, make sure I have your mailing address! Send me an email or a memo on facebook or whatever). The bottom picture is the picture we ordered for James, so he could have a picture in his toolbox at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eEhwH_J4OQo/TudJ11C3jMI/AAAAAAAAA8E/vK9CepQFTZE/s1600/target05.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eEhwH_J4OQo/TudJ11C3jMI/AAAAAAAAA8E/vK9CepQFTZE/s320/target05.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685594243699543234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUxX4VOWlks/TudJ1Ua8B7I/AAAAAAAAA74/5E-pJrNA3Ng/s1600/target04.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUxX4VOWlks/TudJ1Ua8B7I/AAAAAAAAA74/5E-pJrNA3Ng/s320/target04.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685594234942130098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sGYta1rFQUc/TudJ1Jm_unI/AAAAAAAAA7o/iEI-S1XzDNA/s1600/target10.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sGYta1rFQUc/TudJ1Jm_unI/AAAAAAAAA7o/iEI-S1XzDNA/s320/target10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685594232039914098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XmbXE6t8JnA/TudJ0-KP_YI/AAAAAAAAA7g/D7oiDlfYj1c/s1600/target01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 249px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XmbXE6t8JnA/TudJ0-KP_YI/AAAAAAAAA7g/D7oiDlfYj1c/s320/target01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685594228966555010" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/1003229334638179054-3237337926152527694?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3237337926152527694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-tree-other-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3237337926152527694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3237337926152527694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-tree-other-things.html' title='Christmas Tree &amp; Other things'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/---MawYIxGv0/TudKryG_inI/AAAAAAAAA9A/3FwyheDIgZ0/s72-c/SANY0029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3487842842020909331</id><published>2011-12-10T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-10T13:22:29.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dewberry Farm Christmas Trees (More Pictures)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We originally intended to go to Dewberry Farm for the Christmas experience the day after Thanksgiving, but since James had to work we had to postpone our plans. Luckily, he gets a 4 day weekend this weekend, so we decided to take our trip today! We showed up not long after the farm opened which means we were like one of 10 people there. It was pretty windy, which made it feel colder than it was (about 50 degrees), but we still had fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started off playing at the little park. Complete with a couple slides and tire swings shaped like horses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j64Q_6XoBL0/TuPE7w-BwlI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/crHGTJ3clIs/s1600/SANY0001.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j64Q_6XoBL0/TuPE7w-BwlI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/crHGTJ3clIs/s320/SANY0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603685708087890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iijsBtGM4BI/TuPE7ih3fhI/AAAAAAAAA7I/YtekApcoNqI/s1600/SANY0002.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iijsBtGM4BI/TuPE7ih3fhI/AAAAAAAAA7I/YtekApcoNqI/s320/SANY0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603681831878162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Next it was on our way to the larger fort playground (pictured behind Cadence). However, we had to get a picture of the girls with these statues. Megan wasn't too keen on the idea but Cadence was. She wouldn't hold the "how" sign long enough to snap a picture, but she smiled well enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OjATVBwbdBU/TuPE7el25YI/AAAAAAAAA68/HwXqQyh-DXA/s1600/SANY0004.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OjATVBwbdBU/TuPE7el25YI/AAAAAAAAA68/HwXqQyh-DXA/s320/SANY0004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603680774874498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a few trips down random slides, the girls rode the "Black Mamba". Last time we went this swing was constantly being used by older (aka rougher) kids, so they didn't get a chance to play. This time, with how quiet the place was, we got to ride on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZqRQqgAwYA/TuPEuUyEEWI/AAAAAAAAA6w/jN516npk3U8/s1600/SANY0006.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZqRQqgAwYA/TuPEuUyEEWI/AAAAAAAAA6w/jN516npk3U8/s320/SANY0006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603454803415394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The "Black Mamba" couldn't hold a candle next to the hay mountain with its rope swings, though! Megan immediately began "swinging" by holding on to the rope and rocking/running back and forth with it. It was too cute! Cadence, who loved the swing last time we went, was more interested in climbing the mountain than swinging this time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HdjQE55qM5g/TuPEuBKn4EI/AAAAAAAAA6k/GrzmN6GkIDs/s1600/SANY0008.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HdjQE55qM5g/TuPEuBKn4EI/AAAAAAAAA6k/GrzmN6GkIDs/s320/SANY0008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603449537716290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a9VN_DeluIE/TuPEtpr6UAI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/srrpcNexTso/s1600/SANY0012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a9VN_DeluIE/TuPEtpr6UAI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/srrpcNexTso/s320/SANY0012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603443234885634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Afterward, we hopped on the hay ride to get to the Christmas Tree fields, to wander around and maybe find a tree. Cadence loved running through the trees, but the novelty wore off for Megan after she'd fallen down one too many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CkuxzB-Zr90/TuPEtcvZfDI/AAAAAAAAA6M/AJgoZOJI6Wg/s1600/SANY0016.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CkuxzB-Zr90/TuPEtcvZfDI/AAAAAAAAA6M/AJgoZOJI6Wg/s320/SANY0016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603439759850546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DqL7H1hGiCk/TuPEtMwDLgI/AAAAAAAAA6A/Nclb4BuflLs/s1600/SANY0017.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DqL7H1hGiCk/TuPEtMwDLgI/AAAAAAAAA6A/Nclb4BuflLs/s320/SANY0017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684603435467615746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We admired a few trees, but in the end, we decided not to cut down our own tree this year. I think most of the good ones had been taken already. Maybe next year we'll go for one of the &lt;a href="http://dewberrychristmastrees.com/we-have-the-following-tree-types-available/"&gt;Arizona Blue Ice&lt;/a&gt; ones if we show up early enough to get a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ty1w4VlF4c/TuPEGBvX9-I/AAAAAAAAA5o/HZ6pDqjpP2E/s1600/SANY0019.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ty1w4VlF4c/TuPEGBvX9-I/AAAAAAAAA5o/HZ6pDqjpP2E/s320/SANY0019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684602762497095650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--NfpZC9BdfU/TuPEFOqpTzI/AAAAAAAAA5g/9sIFwwk2ch4/s1600/SANY0023.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--NfpZC9BdfU/TuPEFOqpTzI/AAAAAAAAA5g/9sIFwwk2ch4/s320/SANY0023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684602748787052338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We rode the hay ride back to the main part of the farm. By this time, the girls were getting a little too tired of the cold wind, so we checked out their fudge shop and their country store before leaving. We had hoped to see Santa, but he wasn't going to show up until after lunch time. Next year, we'll see him, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A8BFBvy5rWk/TuPEENiKQMI/AAAAAAAAA5U/qclciq7Olgw/s1600/SANY0024.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A8BFBvy5rWk/TuPEENiKQMI/AAAAAAAAA5U/qclciq7Olgw/s320/SANY0024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684602731303157954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After we left, we ended up at Fazoli's, a fast food Italian restaurant I fell in love with during my first trip to St George, Utah. Mmm. Unfortunately, there's only one in Houston and it's about 20 miles from our house, so it's not an option. Luckily, it was on our way home from the Christmas Tree farm, so we were able to go there for lunch! (Oh yes, as a rare treat, we let the girls pick what they wanted from the soda fountain. Normally they get the watered down "juice" option if they get a drink at all. Both girls choice? Dr Pepper. Oh yeah.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7x3ZM8c9oYg/TuPEDkJVbcI/AAAAAAAAA5E/_zcbsnpJsLM/s1600/SANY0025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7x3ZM8c9oYg/TuPEDkJVbcI/AAAAAAAAA5E/_zcbsnpJsLM/s320/SANY0025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684602720193179074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ed6ke-eGHHw/TuPEDKTfeHI/AAAAAAAAA44/NYmgGR0bx6k/s1600/SANY0027.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ed6ke-eGHHw/TuPEDKTfeHI/AAAAAAAAA44/NYmgGR0bx6k/s320/SANY0027.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684602713256458354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After lunch, we stopped at Home Depot and bought our tree from the parking lot. Got a good one, if I do say so myself. We'll put the lights on it tonight, but we're not really decorating it until tomorrow night. The girls are LOVING the tree. We have it in the garage set up to let the branches drop a bit before we shake out the rest of the dried needles and bring it inside. The cats will probably love it too once they see it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Naturally, pictures of tree decorating will be posted in the next few days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3487842842020909331?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3487842842020909331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/dewberry-farm-christmas-trees-more.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3487842842020909331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3487842842020909331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/dewberry-farm-christmas-trees-more.html' title='Dewberry Farm Christmas Trees (More Pictures)'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j64Q_6XoBL0/TuPE7w-BwlI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/crHGTJ3clIs/s72-c/SANY0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3439320895076151991</id><published>2011-12-01T08:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T09:13:03.098-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the Season!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;First and foremost, look what I made for Thanksgiving! That's right, it's eggs! This plate is a testament to how much I love my husband. For those of you not aware of my picky eating habits, I HATE eggs. I try to give them a fair chance and try them every now and again and I'm okay with scrambled eggs (never going to make myself a batch of them because they sound good, though) and I tried a deviled egg last Thanksgiving. But, nothing has changed. I'll still turn up my nose at any egg-only dish and pick them out of my macaroni salad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxICgXfWacE/TteyjUqOvrI/AAAAAAAAA4g/S4FCB35XnBg/s1600/SANY0040.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxICgXfWacE/TteyjUqOvrI/AAAAAAAAA4g/S4FCB35XnBg/s320/SANY0040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681205774862171826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The deviled eggs were my first accomplishment, but I managed to make an entire meal on my own. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen and the girls only picked at the meal in the end, but I was quite pleased with how it turned out. Thankfully, I'd gotten lots of practice by helping my mom over the past few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--uadYmSwePY/TteyjL56mCI/AAAAAAAAA4U/OOQkak7vxPU/s1600/SANY0046.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--uadYmSwePY/TteyjL56mCI/AAAAAAAAA4U/OOQkak7vxPU/s320/SANY0046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681205772512040994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Never made a turkey until this year, though. I was a bit apprehensive, but it turned out okay (even though the flash on this picture makes it look gross and undercooked). Notice the sage leaves under the skin? Yup, I went all out, lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dhAt1ObmEtA/TteyS889gKI/AAAAAAAAA3w/X0x0D01dQIM/s320/SANY0045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681205493620375714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;With Thanksgiving behind us though, it's time to look toward another amazing holiday. I dragged out our Christmas things and realized we have next to nothing as far as decorations go. I'm not one to go spend a lot of money on "frivolous" things without James's approval, so after talking to him last night, I went shopping today! A little fir garland to go with the tinsel one we had created a nice window treatment. Last night it was just the tinsel garland and lights and looked so pathetic. The fir garland really helped.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fLLvpukHpQg/TteySEXQ5dI/AAAAAAAAA3M/HBuoxr-lzzs/s1600/SANY0053.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fLLvpukHpQg/TteySEXQ5dI/AAAAAAAAA3M/HBuoxr-lzzs/s320/SANY0053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681205478429877714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The last bit was our fireplace. The amazing advent calendar I made during our Super Saturday last month replaced the picture that normally hangs over our fireplace and I simply wrapped a 2x4 piece of wood we had in the garage to place over the mantle. The little tree is waiting for the tiny ornaments inside the advent calendar as we count down to Christmas. As for the shotgun shell Christmas lights on the fireplace screen? James has been wanting a set since he saw the set his grandfather had. I found them and decided I might as well splurge a little. I think they look great, don't you (Other than the green plug which has been tucked behind the screen since taking this picture).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--c0Ev8pMfYE/Tteyi1aAH8I/AAAAAAAAA4I/Au2xOc354Cs/s1600/SANY0052.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--c0Ev8pMfYE/Tteyi1aAH8I/AAAAAAAAA4I/Au2xOc354Cs/s320/SANY0052.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681205766472605634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next weekend, James is spending some vacation time to get a 4 day weekend, so we're putting off getting a tree until we can make a day of it. Next Saturday, we're going back to Dewberry farm (the pumpkin patch we went to in October) to enjoy their Christmas tree farm. We probably won't buy from them, given their asking prices, but we're going to make the most of the atmosphere and then probably buy a tree from Home Depot on our way home (then pick up Aunt Robyn that night at the airport, wee!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did, however, buy lights to go on the tree and the girls each picked out an ornament. I'll probably do this every year for awhile. One of the workers at Walmart suggested I put their name and the year on each ornament as well and then give them to them for their first Christmas out of the house and I think it's a genius idea I just might use! After all, potpourri trees are so much better than ones with matching ornaments, don't you think?&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/1003229334638179054-3439320895076151991?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3439320895076151991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/tis-season.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3439320895076151991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3439320895076151991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/12/tis-season.html' title='Tis the Season!'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxICgXfWacE/TteyjUqOvrI/AAAAAAAAA4g/S4FCB35XnBg/s72-c/SANY0040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4374013529315513898</id><published>2011-11-23T07:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T07:19:17.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updated Kiddo Stats</title><content type='html'>This past Monday, we went to the new pediatrician for our annual check-up! :-) I'm apprehensive with new doctors since I got blindsided by Megan's new doctor a year ago. Just in case, I wrote down her height and weights for the past few visits to take with me if the doctor had any concerns about Megan's size.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, the office staff was amazing as soon as we walked in. I thought they were nice when I went in to drop off their shot records and thought the same thing when I went in again, even as they were handing me a clipboard with a ton of new patient paperwork to fill out. Whenever a nurse came out to call back the next kid, they'd wave at other kids and greet them by name. I don't know that they'll ever know my kids by name, since we only show up once a year. I love having relatively healthy kids (knock on wood)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The nurse we met with was all smiles and chit chat, with both me and the girls. Even with Cadence crying as soon as she stepped behind the door and realized we were in a doctor's office, the nurse managed to put her at ease and convince her it would be cool to get weighed and measured and even made getting her blood pressure and hearing checked fun! Pretty amazing if you ask me, since Cadence is pretty stubborn and is more likely to freak out if a stranger touches her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Technically, it was Megan's appointment, but I think the nurse was on auto-pilot since most of the time they do schedule both kids for the same appointment (my life will be so much easier in the future...). Since this was our first visit, though, the doctor wanted them separate so she could focus on the kid in question.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pediatrician herself was... brisk. Not rude, just very straightforward. She wasn't going to chit chat with me about random topics, though she was very easy to talk to and I'm sure I could get a good dialogue going with her on any concerns I had (I had none).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Megan, of course, freaked out once the actual exam began, mostly when I laid her on the table. Cadence got upset over that, but luckily she was able to stand right next to me on a step stool and actually see that Megan was okay and that helped her calm down. The doctor wanted to double check Megan's iron levels to be sure the anemia was gone (it was!) and then Megan got the flu vaccine. No shot required for that, at least, they did the nasal spray one. Overall, it wasn't as terrible of an experience as Megan made it seem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, updated stats for those that are curious:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Megan-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Height: 34" (previously 31.5")&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Weight: 23.5lbs (previously 20.5lbs)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*50th percentile for height, 10th percentile for weight (she's gone up a bit on the weight chart!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cadence-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Height: 37.25" (previously 34.25")&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Weight: 30lbs (previously 25.7lbs)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*25-50th percentile for both (she's finally evening out, lol)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next Monday will be fun. Cadence is going to get the flu vaccine AND a shot for chickenpox.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, don't know that many of my readers will care, but I like having these things written down for my own reference in the future. Deal with it. :-P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-4374013529315513898?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4374013529315513898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/updated-kiddo-stats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4374013529315513898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4374013529315513898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/updated-kiddo-stats.html' title='Updated Kiddo Stats'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4830252513742072222</id><published>2011-11-20T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T10:31:57.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A quiet birthday party</title><content type='html'>With James's crazy work schedule, the girls' birthday was a quiet family affair, which, in my book, is 200% okay. Wednesday night, on Megan's birthday, we let them open their individual presents, since we bought two smaller presents and one larger one. Cadence was ecstatic when she saw what we brought downstairs and Megan picked up on that excitement.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ENN9fa2Hzuk/TslFge7o7AI/AAAAAAAAA2o/4qbK152_WA8/s1600/SANY0009.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ENN9fa2Hzuk/TslFge7o7AI/AAAAAAAAA2o/4qbK152_WA8/s320/SANY0009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677145229638560770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence LOVES this doll. She hasn't let it leave her side at all since she got it, except when we ask her to leave it in the car to go into the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SAUKN-84eFE/TslFf81wg0I/AAAAAAAAA2c/eecAJSxSqY8/s1600/SANY0010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SAUKN-84eFE/TslFf81wg0I/AAAAAAAAA2c/eecAJSxSqY8/s320/SANY0010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677145220487086914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan took little coaxing to rip into the paper once she saw her sister do the same thing minutes before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5UEn3aU5MXw/TslFfsXuLBI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/8u_a7YWbIYo/s1600/SANY0012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5UEn3aU5MXw/TslFfsXuLBI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/8u_a7YWbIYo/s320/SANY0012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677145216066137106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She wasn't quite as excited about her present as Cadence was, but she loves it nonetheless. She tried to take half the pieces to bed with her that night and I had to sneak most of them out or risk losing them before she'd had the thing a whole day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n_BPiOWOsNo/TslFIE0pozI/AAAAAAAAA2E/0kgtIqHlqM0/s1600/SANY0015.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n_BPiOWOsNo/TslFIE0pozI/AAAAAAAAA2E/0kgtIqHlqM0/s320/SANY0015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677144810313065266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sunday afternoon (today), we did the rest of their birthday. Taking an idea from Aunt Erin, we decided to let them decorate their own birthday cake. I did just the bare minimum and let them go crazy. Here's the before:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SW_gM3ydHDE/TslFH9eeydI/AAAAAAAAA14/L6Zxf089unI/s1600/SANY0022.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SW_gM3ydHDE/TslFH9eeydI/AAAAAAAAA14/L6Zxf089unI/s320/SANY0022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677144808341031378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls loved it! They were crazy for it. Sprinkles, m&amp;amp;ms, sugar letters, colored sugar. Every little kid's dream. I'm surprised most of it actually ended up on the cake and not in their mouths (though Megan helped herself to some).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vRZdfgQBwVA/TslFHOeeb3I/AAAAAAAAA1w/aRScHiN38Zg/s1600/SANY0024.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vRZdfgQBwVA/TslFHOeeb3I/AAAAAAAAA1w/aRScHiN38Zg/s320/SANY0024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677144795724541810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The finished product. Looks appetizing, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gw65-h2F56o/TslFG_0op5I/AAAAAAAAA1c/QPm5wqp7cgs/s1600/SANY0028.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gw65-h2F56o/TslFG_0op5I/AAAAAAAAA1c/QPm5wqp7cgs/s320/SANY0028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677144791790954386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once James brought down the big present, the girls went nuts, bouncing around him excitedly until he finally put it down and let them rip into it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8DnyVnlkZrk/TslHEFucHkI/AAAAAAAAA20/Vl1KOowWLHk/s1600/SANY0031.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8DnyVnlkZrk/TslHEFucHkI/AAAAAAAAA20/Vl1KOowWLHk/s320/SANY0031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677146940859227714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say, they love it. We also bought some large coloring pictures from Toy Story and the Disney Princesses so they had some fun pictures to color with their new easel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HeKVoW0So7c/TslFGsWR-NI/AAAAAAAAA1U/fHcNIww44Zw/s1600/SANY0036.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HeKVoW0So7c/TslFGsWR-NI/AAAAAAAAA1U/fHcNIww44Zw/s320/SANY0036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677144786563365074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Gotta love the mess that is their playroom, lol. But a messy playroom is a sign of kids that are having a good time, right? :-)&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/1003229334638179054-4830252513742072222?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4830252513742072222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/quiet-birthday-party.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4830252513742072222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4830252513742072222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/quiet-birthday-party.html' title='A quiet birthday party'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ENN9fa2Hzuk/TslFge7o7AI/AAAAAAAAA2o/4qbK152_WA8/s72-c/SANY0009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1090985399795761773</id><published>2011-11-17T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T14:56:41.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My 3 Year Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;You know, I still call Cadence a toddler. All the "early childhood" stuff says the "preschool" stage starts around 2 and I've been denying it all year. Now that she's three, I suppose I can't deny it much longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't believe I've been a mom for three years already. At the same time, I'm surprised she's not 5! How does that happen? Can you believe three years ago, this was my life (by the way, that blanket is TINY and whenever I see this picture and look at the tiny blanket, which is currently used in the playroom for their dolls, I am stunned at how tiny she must have been):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cQ2DmNzbd7Q/TsVwlaWrw5I/AAAAAAAAA0k/Kkuj3TRIquU/s1600/n638077477_1158973_3034.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cQ2DmNzbd7Q/TsVwlaWrw5I/AAAAAAAAA0k/Kkuj3TRIquU/s320/n638077477_1158973_3034.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676066693402313618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And now that sweet little girl has grown into the rambunctious ball of energy that I absolutely adore. She tries my patience a dozen times an hour and some days it feels like I spend more time saying "Cadence, no!" and chasing her away from whatever she got into that she knows she's not supposed to be in, than doing anything else. She's a stubborn little turd and most of the time I love her for it, but a lot of the time I just wish she was a little less stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vqRNtuK6PYQ/TsVxnNqn_XI/AAAAAAAAA0s/WS63t-4Ej0Y/s1600/SANY0006.JPG" style="text-align: left; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vqRNtuK6PYQ/TsVxnNqn_XI/AAAAAAAAA0s/WS63t-4Ej0Y/s320/SANY0006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676067823867657586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's crazy smart, though. I say that all the time, but I mean it. She's known her letters for close to a year now. She recognizes her numbers 0-10 and all her colors. She memorizes things so easily. The other day I was floored when I heard her reciting the opening few minutes of a Dora the Explorer episode (we watched the same one over and over at her request). Her imagination is flourishing. She'd take a ribbon halfway up our stairs and pretend it was Rapunzel's hair as she quoted the scene between Rapunzel and Mother Gothel (when Rapunzel's pulling her up while Flynn's stuck in the closet). She puts her doll on Taz's back and pretends Taz is a horse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She loves books. Loves loves loves them. She has three memorized. She picked up one of my books and began flipping through it while reciting "The Very Busy Spider". She knows all the songs I sing at bedtime, but refuses to do much more than watch me make a fool of myself. But if we're stuck in the car for awhile, she'll entertain her sister with the same songs. She even knows most of "I am a Child of God", which should serve her well in primary in only 7 more Sundays (6 if you don't count Stake Conference this weekend!). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cadence's greatest skill is as an artist, though. I already bragged about her drawing a person in August, complete with hair, feet, eyes and nose all in the right spot. She's recently expanded into cats, though the only difference is they have whiskers instead of hair. She's practicing coloring specific things, though she doesn't do well at keeping it in the lines she will have a condensed spot of color over what she intended to color. She's trying to write her letters, but I've confiscated most of her coloring items so she's limited in how much she can practice right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's extremely independent and always has been, which is probably why I sometimes feel like I don't parent her as much as I should be. I always forget how much she does know. At least twice a week, I am stunned by something she says or does because I have no clue where she learned it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She LOVES the outdoors and she LOVES water. So suffice it to say, the girl is crazy for rain. Luckily, Houston is pretty warm even when it rains so I can let her go play in it and not worry too much about her catch a cold. She recently discovered umbrellas and thinks life is just about perfect now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jpmfAtjCnXY/TsV1cmz5vuI/AAAAAAAAA04/SHAwzFyilUg/s1600/SANY0028.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jpmfAtjCnXY/TsV1cmz5vuI/AAAAAAAAA04/SHAwzFyilUg/s320/SANY0028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676072039685406434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to watch her grow over the next year. She's been talking for the past year but I think she'll really get into it soon and we'll have all sorts of fun little conversations to go through together. It's going to be amazing at least as amazing as the past three years have been and I cannot WAIT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1090985399795761773?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1090985399795761773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-3-year-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1090985399795761773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1090985399795761773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-3-year-old.html' title='My 3 Year Old'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cQ2DmNzbd7Q/TsVwlaWrw5I/AAAAAAAAA0k/Kkuj3TRIquU/s72-c/n638077477_1158973_3034.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1932218583512939286</id><published>2011-11-16T06:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T06:40:02.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My second 2 year old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;She's two! My other baby's two years old today. I've been calling her a two year old for convenience sake for a few months now. It's just so much easier to say "She's two" when people ask. I suppose "a little over a year and a half" would work, but it's such a mouthful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Only two years ago, I went in and endured one of the most terrifying 5 minutes of my life (currently tied for first with our car accident 3 weeks before that and the night in the hospital that followed), listening to the doctor explain I would need an emergency c-section and listening to them call for resuscitation equipment as they were putting me under. But this sweet little girl was 100% okay when I woke up, except for a tiny nick on her head from the doctor's scalpel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-89o23ItrYA4/TsPEFmDufZI/AAAAAAAAAzw/5HpAiCmBZU0/s1600/15537_179616057477_638077477_2921628_3586925_n.jpg" style="text-align: left; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-89o23ItrYA4/TsPEFmDufZI/AAAAAAAAAzw/5HpAiCmBZU0/s320/15537_179616057477_638077477_2921628_3586925_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675595555811523986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And now, two years later, here we are. She's the sweetest little girl on the planet. She'll smile just because you ask her and has the most adorable "I'm cute, gotta love me" grin that wrinkles her nose and squinches her eyes whenever she gets caught doing something. She has the same wispy curls as her sister at this age, and the similarities between the two are as plentiful as their differences. Without her sister egging her on, Megan is sweet and quiet and perfectly happy to just talk to you and entertain herself. If she could spend all day snuggling on my lap this girl would be perfectly content and I find myself more than happy to oblige most days. But, she's far from bullied by her sister. If Cadence does something she doesn't like, she's very good at making it known and will try her darnedest to take care of it herself (though sometimes mommy has to jump in because big sister is taller and faster).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9VXXqOZtv28/TsPEbEEynYI/AAAAAAAAAz8/tCqkoW2BsSU/s1600/SANY0007.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9VXXqOZtv28/TsPEbEEynYI/AAAAAAAAAz8/tCqkoW2BsSU/s320/SANY0007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675595924646305154" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's just as smart as her sister, though her strengths are in other areas. As talented as Cadence was with songs at this age, Megan outdoes her. She loves singing songs with me, though she's picked up on her sister's habit of telling me "no" when I try to sing any time other than bedtime. She's trying so hard to learn her numbers, letters and colors, but she's trying to master them all at once so she gets them garbled a lot. She has all the words in her head, she just hasn't quite put them with the right symbols yet. My little over achiever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Megan is using sentences already, more often than single words. "No, I do it" is a popular one around here as she attempts to buckle herself or put her shoes on. Heck, the girl uses proper sentences and actually talks more than her sister does some days. She's definitely more expressive with words than Cadence ever was. And her words are still new enough she'll sit in my lap and just start naming everything she sees because knowing those words is fun to her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's hard, some times, to recognize Megan's achievements because she's generally mimicking Cadence and I don't realize "whoa, that's new!" But she keeps up with her three year old sister with ease. Some days, a little more than I'd like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wants so badly to be potty trained, but she won't use the small potty and I'm still recovering from potty training Cadence. We'll probably start soon. She already climbs onto the toilet to sit, though it involves getting onto the toilet seat on all fours and then twisting around to get her butt in the proper spot (and she's skinny enough she's almost too small for the toilet seat cushiony insert we have, lol) and she knows you have to wipe afterward and wash your hands. Heck, she's almost more potty-trained then Cadence in those aspects!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her favorite things right now are puzzles (can't wait to give her the wood dress-up doll we got her for her birthday, she's going to LOVE it) and I wish we had more. She loves coloring (we got an art easel too, lol). She is NOT a fan of Houston's rain. She doesn't mind a nice sprinkle, but the downpours we tend to get upset her. She is very much my child in how easily she gets cold. She loves Taz and will sit on James's lap and watch youtube videos about puppies for hours on end if she could. She gives the BEST hugs ever. When I pick her up from nursery, she latches on, arms tight around my neck and even hugs me with her legs. I just adore this little girl!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FJfVrNPdElw/TsPLHixXNPI/AAAAAAAAA0I/bHeevBRoO-M/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FJfVrNPdElw/TsPLHixXNPI/AAAAAAAAA0I/bHeevBRoO-M/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675603285870327026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1932218583512939286?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1932218583512939286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-second-2-year-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1932218583512939286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1932218583512939286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-second-2-year-old.html' title='My second 2 year old'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-89o23ItrYA4/TsPEFmDufZI/AAAAAAAAAzw/5HpAiCmBZU0/s72-c/15537_179616057477_638077477_2921628_3586925_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8453907946829807974</id><published>2011-11-10T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T15:14:58.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sure, I'll brag a bit</title><content type='html'>I can't believe my girls are a week away from being 2 and 3!!! I'll give a more detailed account of how amazingly smart they are on their birthdays (just like I did last year), but I wanted to write about them today anyway.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I just take a minute to gush about how much I absolutely adore them? I really do! They drive me up the wall and I want to bang my head against something solid multiple times throughout the day, but in the end, I love (mostly) every minute of it. Just now, I was standing in the kitchen watching them and smiling as they interacted with and learned from their current favorite Leap Frog movie (so glad Netflix has all the ones I don't have on DVD yet).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I caught Megan naming some of the letters during the ABC song and even saying some of the sounds before the song did! And Cadence is studiously practicing the animal baby and family names. See how intently they pay attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1AXRSxhcCA/TrxXqydhUtI/AAAAAAAAAzI/U1QUDQzgWTY/s1600/SANY0008.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1AXRSxhcCA/TrxXqydhUtI/AAAAAAAAAzI/U1QUDQzgWTY/s320/SANY0008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673506023191696082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan is such a character now! It was so easy to recognize Cadence as a 2 year old because I had this tiny 1 year old to look at and think "wow, she's a lot bigger, okay, she's 2". But Megan... I can't seem to accept that Megan is really a 2 year old, no matter how big she gets, no matter how many words she has, or how much she actually ACTS like a 2 year old (believe it or not, sweet little Megan is my tantrum thrower! Cadence has fits. But Megan will find a clear spot on the carpet to throw herself down and act and look as miserable as possible). But, she's 2! She's actually 2 years old! She's not a baby any more. :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WmlBf_nZZiI/TrxXqdgfGOI/AAAAAAAAAy8/65Gfb1zx5Fs/s1600/SANY0010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WmlBf_nZZiI/TrxXqdgfGOI/AAAAAAAAAy8/65Gfb1zx5Fs/s320/SANY0010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673506017566988514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And if Megan's not a baby, what does that make Cadence? She's pretty much a preschooler now. She uses full sentences, knows way more than I do, and all those preschooler things. She'll be in Sunbeams in only 8 more Sundays. A Sunbeam! I taught the Sunbeams right after I got out of high school. I know what big kids those Sunbeams are and my kid's about to be one of them. Gah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5nbyemu6ciE/TrxXqLGi27I/AAAAAAAAAyw/9f9eilVWB90/s1600/SANY0006.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5nbyemu6ciE/TrxXqLGi27I/AAAAAAAAAyw/9f9eilVWB90/s320/SANY0006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673506012626344882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I keep thinking they should know more than they already do. But they each have their strengths and they excel in those areas. Megan can manipulate the world around her so completely it's startling. Nothing holds her back. She'll find a way around it whatever it takes. And Cadence is my little artist and talker. I caught her drawing a cat the other day. Complete with whiskers. And she talked me through the whole process once she realized I was paying attention.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/1003229334638179054-8453907946829807974?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8453907946829807974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/sure-ill-brag-bit.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8453907946829807974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8453907946829807974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/sure-ill-brag-bit.html' title='Sure, I&apos;ll brag a bit'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q1AXRSxhcCA/TrxXqydhUtI/AAAAAAAAAzI/U1QUDQzgWTY/s72-c/SANY0008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6612223957869501855</id><published>2011-11-09T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T15:38:24.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>4-year Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://dietdeli.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/wedding-rings-1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 236px; height: 145px;" src="http://dietdeli.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/wedding-rings-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you know how lucky I am to be married to the man I'm married to for the past 4 years? It's been an amazing journey with him and I am more in love with him than the day I married him. I am so blessed to have James in my life.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really need to tell him that more. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think there's been a single day over the past 4 years that he hasn't made me laugh at least once. And he tells me he loves me every single day. I've never doubted his feelings for me, which is a blessing all on its own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Four years strong and still not a single argument between us (yes, we disagree some times). The closest we got to one was the night we put Cadence's toddler bed together. We learned our lesson though and just didn't talk while putting Megan's together a year later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've had quite the journey in our 4 years together and I'm so glad he was by my side. His faith never wavered and strengthened my own in the process. When things got hard, he'd tell me "it will work out" and, lo and behold, it did. Always. Even more, when I'd let the bad things turn me into a grump, he wouldn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I am one lucky girl. Just so everyone knows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-6612223957869501855?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6612223957869501855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/4-year-anniversary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6612223957869501855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6612223957869501855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/11/4-year-anniversary.html' title='4-year Anniversary'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3965968033494411215</id><published>2011-10-30T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T11:47:17.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trunk or Treat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We had a tri-ward Trunk or Treat/Halloween carnival last night. It was quite the shindig, though not quite what I've grown accustomed to. The outdoor carnival was okay: bowling with small pumpkins and orange spray-painted 2-liter bottles, fishing for rubber duckies, face painting, donut-eating contest, etc. The girls had little interest in most of it, and had more fun running in circles on the grass. We ate corndogs and carrot sticks and wandered through the crowd to find people we knew so I could show off how cute my kids were. I meant to take a picture of the chaos that was the carnival, the turnout was bigger than any I'd ever been to, since it was 3 wards instead of just one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As usual, Cadence refused to pose long enough for me to get a decent shot of her costume, so here's the picture I managed to snag when I first completed the project. She was so ecstatic when I finished it. We had to hide it from her to keep it in one piece. Now that it's her to do as she likes, she's been carrying it around in her Strawberry Shortcake trick or treating bag all day long:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gM3t5yjVpag/Tq2YjgnXmxI/AAAAAAAAAxs/f5XPHp5rwjs/s1600/strawberrycostume.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gM3t5yjVpag/Tq2YjgnXmxI/AAAAAAAAAxs/f5XPHp5rwjs/s320/strawberrycostume.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669355241747225362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan was SUPPOSED to be Lemon Meringue to match Cadence's costume (which got rave reviews, by the way), but the jacket I was making just wasn't working out. So last minute, we went costume shopping and found the most adorable Little Red Riding Hood costume. She looked 200% adorable. I may be biased in saying so, but she really, really did. The pictures I got didn't do her justice. Everyone who saw her, even complete strangers, just squealed in delight over how adorable she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ca9bv1-XnzE/Tq2YjeJJ-0I/AAAAAAAAAxk/YEJluO6995M/s1600/SANY0001.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ca9bv1-XnzE/Tq2YjeJJ-0I/AAAAAAAAAxk/YEJluO6995M/s320/SANY0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669355241083632450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence did get her face painted and even managed to avoid touching it long enough to let most of it dry. If you peek in the back of this picture, you'll notice James trying to lure Megan out of the bushes she was obsessed with going into. Thankfully, they were pretty dense, so she never got more than an arm in before we grabbed her away from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c8rZMSxGdoI/Tq2Yi-QLpOI/AAAAAAAAAxc/BM4JTfmdfpQ/s1600/SANY0002.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c8rZMSxGdoI/Tq2Yi-QLpOI/AAAAAAAAAxc/BM4JTfmdfpQ/s320/SANY0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669355232523166946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The trunk or treat portion of the night was fantastic. I'm used to maybe 15-20 cars participating. This one had closer to 50 (if not more), since all three wards sat out. We started out early before all of the cars opened their trunks, but we did get a nice stash going (filled one of my mixing bowls, at least). Megan was quick to catch on to the idea of "open my bag and people give me candy". It fascinated her. Cadence caught on to the idea of "get candy, move on to the next one", but we frequently had to drag Megan away as she constantly asked for or reached for seconds. Most people indulged her (probably because she's so cute) but we tried very hard to discourage it. Anyway, they didn't fill their bags, but they had about 3-4 inches deep of candy going before we put an end to it (with many protests) and were content to munch on M&amp;amp;Ms on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20FL2w6cVRA/Tq2YilsHEZI/AAAAAAAAAxM/lbpYcXEC-1Q/s1600/SANY0003.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20FL2w6cVRA/Tq2YilsHEZI/AAAAAAAAAxM/lbpYcXEC-1Q/s320/SANY0003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669355225929421202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, doubt we'll go trick-or-treating in our neighborhood this year. I'm not even sure our neighborhood does it. We're the only ones on the block with pumpkins set out. We're prepared with a big bag of mixed chocolate, just in case, but I bought it with the mindset of "if nobody comes, at least it's something we'll eat", since last year we ended up with a big bag of dumdums that eventually got thrown out (since our neighbors sat outside blocking the walkway to both our apartments to hand out their candy, so nobody squeezed past them to come to ours on Halloween).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3965968033494411215?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3965968033494411215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/trunk-or-treat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3965968033494411215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3965968033494411215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/trunk-or-treat.html' title='Trunk or Treat'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gM3t5yjVpag/Tq2YjgnXmxI/AAAAAAAAAxs/f5XPHp5rwjs/s72-c/strawberrycostume.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7285134696087827683</id><published>2011-10-22T19:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T19:32:46.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Painting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Since paining the pumpkins was such a hit last year with Cadence, I wanted to give the girls a chance to do it again this year. I dressed them up in some of my old t-shirts that I wouldn't mind never getting the paint out of (though acrylic is pretty washable all said and done, I still have some clothes with stains). So, decked out in "mommy dresses", the girls sat on the back porch with their paint palettes and foam brushes and painted the pumpkins we bought them at Dewberry Farm (since Cadence would not let us leave pumpkinless!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y7a01I9aOSE/TqN6wVn1nDI/AAAAAAAAAwU/yElVWF74tSo/s1600/SANY0023.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y7a01I9aOSE/TqN6wVn1nDI/AAAAAAAAAwU/yElVWF74tSo/s320/SANY0023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666507727018761266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence was very particular about how she placed her paint. When I pointed out she'd missed the bottom part of her entire pumpkin she scooted onto her belly and very seriously painted the blank spots. She had this intense look of concentration the whole time. I was too busy enjoying the moment to catch it on film, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mT7wiXNrUSE/TqN6vWO-YxI/AAAAAAAAAwM/FmJ8nkpeC_I/s1600/SANY0024.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mT7wiXNrUSE/TqN6vWO-YxI/AAAAAAAAAwM/FmJ8nkpeC_I/s320/SANY0024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666507710003045138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The pumpkins were fairly small, so I happily bought a larger jack-o-lantern pumpkin when we went to the store. I let the girls paint the smaller ones themselves, but added my own finger-painting technique to the bigger one that we all painted together. Neither Cadence nor Megan were too keen on ditching their brushes to use their fingers, no matter how much I played it up, though.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the end of our painting experience, both pieces of cardboard I put the girls paint on was a big goopy mess of brown paint. But the girls had a blast. I bought some foam stickers specifically for jack-o-lanterns for a dollar and decorated the pumpkins with silly faces once the paint dried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aPkUwluklYM/TqN6vLk0mxI/AAAAAAAAAv8/xThA5Wy-z9U/s1600/SANY0025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aPkUwluklYM/TqN6vLk0mxI/AAAAAAAAAv8/xThA5Wy-z9U/s320/SANY0025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666507707141888786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls haven't seen the finished product yet, but I think they'll enjoy it in the end. Once they've seen them and admired them, I'll put them on our front lawn. Trying to decide between in front of the tree in the middle of the yard, or in front of the bushes that line our walkway. Nobody decorate for Halloween around here and it's kind of sad. Debating cobwebs in my walkway bushes still, now that the rain forecast has been changed to sunny all week. Not sure I want to deal with picking the cobwebs out, though...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And before you ask, yes, the larger pumpkin does have a goatee. That was supposed to be the vampire's hair, since the kit I bought had pieces for 4 pre-designed faces. So I snipped the sideburns and made a goatee for the pumpkin, lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7285134696087827683?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7285134696087827683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/pumpkin-painting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7285134696087827683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7285134696087827683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/pumpkin-painting.html' title='Pumpkin Painting'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y7a01I9aOSE/TqN6wVn1nDI/AAAAAAAAAwU/yElVWF74tSo/s72-c/SANY0023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6811352261460735495</id><published>2011-10-15T15:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T15:44:19.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dewberry Farm (Lots of Pictures)</title><content type='html'>James has been working extra hard recently, so when he unexpectedly got a 3 day weekend, we decided we had to take full advantage of it and went to a family farm just outside of town. We had an amazing time. For the cost of entry (the girls were free, at least for another year) we got access to a playground, barrel train, hay stack with rope swings, pig races, and a wagon ride to the pumpkin patch itself. There's also a great corn maze, but by the time we did everything else, the girls were too tired for us to even attempt it. Now for the dozen pictures:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cadence posing right before the barrel train ride. She loved it. A big tractor pulled around some old 55-gallon barrels painted and decorated to look like cows:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VnRywrygx5E/TpoG7i0glJI/AAAAAAAAAvo/0kV__Ba0GYY/s1600/SANY0001.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VnRywrygx5E/TpoG7i0glJI/AAAAAAAAAvo/0kV__Ba0GYY/s320/SANY0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663847101400913042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This was by far Cadence's favorite. Climb to the top of the hay mountain and swing on the ropes. If you fell? No big deal! Lots of soft hay to land on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ILboPJGBxAU/TpoG7CnSa2I/AAAAAAAAAvg/YEKYgST5k5s/s1600/SANY0004.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ILboPJGBxAU/TpoG7CnSa2I/AAAAAAAAAvg/YEKYgST5k5s/s320/SANY0004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663847092755524450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She seriously would have spent all day on this one if we let her. But there were only so many ropes and we needed to let other kids have a fair chance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ukRN5bbsGWs/TpoG6zpYGAI/AAAAAAAAAvU/46Fnu9wkyK0/s1600/SANY0005.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ukRN5bbsGWs/TpoG6zpYGAI/AAAAAAAAAvU/46Fnu9wkyK0/s320/SANY0005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663847088737753090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We paid a little extra to go through a dark building with lots of carved (and lit up) pumpkins. It was crazy hot inside that small building, so when we came out, it was only natural to go to the snow cone booth right next to it. Pretty fun. They give you the ice and you go to a little room with a dozen flavors and you can mix and match to your hearts content.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ve79kcql9TQ/TpoGqutizjI/AAAAAAAAAvI/15XKE2hJHIA/s1600/SANY0007.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ve79kcql9TQ/TpoGqutizjI/AAAAAAAAAvI/15XKE2hJHIA/s320/SANY0007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846812535148082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Obviously, the girls loved it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwWPoWywt3E/TpoGqk8x3LI/AAAAAAAAAu4/caN05nHpGLE/s1600/SANY0009.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwWPoWywt3E/TpoGqk8x3LI/AAAAAAAAAu4/caN05nHpGLE/s320/SANY0009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846809914694834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Megan at the pumpkin patch. Thank goodness she wore that hat. It kept her from getting sunburned (like me).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jOR70aYlhxk/TpoGqWAfBhI/AAAAAAAAAuw/wmE1aVsI7F8/s1600/SANY0010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jOR70aYlhxk/TpoGqWAfBhI/AAAAAAAAAuw/wmE1aVsI7F8/s320/SANY0010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846805903705618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cadence was CRAZY about the pumpkins. As soon as we got off the wagon ride to the pumpkin patch she was running around trying to pick them all up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-co0S26bIsq8/TpoGpcATWnI/AAAAAAAAAuo/Ya_rZh6vAKw/s1600/SANY0011.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-co0S26bIsq8/TpoGpcATWnI/AAAAAAAAAuo/Ya_rZh6vAKw/s320/SANY0011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846790333684338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Others had stacked pumpkins for photo ops, so we attempted to take advantage of the opportunity. Here's Cadence bossing her sister around as I attempted to herd Megan to the perfect spot for a cute photo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1l6P1EBCut8/TpoGpGi05nI/AAAAAAAAAuY/C0lZhwpZP9c/s1600/SANY0013.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1l6P1EBCut8/TpoGpGi05nI/AAAAAAAAAuY/C0lZhwpZP9c/s320/SANY0013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846784572909170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And this is how Megan interpreted my request of "sit next to Cadence!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iOmkg8t4Vic/TpoGSbpFgQI/AAAAAAAAAuM/DAtQPGIPTEM/s1600/SANY0012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iOmkg8t4Vic/TpoGSbpFgQI/AAAAAAAAAuM/DAtQPGIPTEM/s320/SANY0012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846395099316482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;James and Cadence inspected a few, but in the end, we bought some from the stall closer to the gates. Smaller pumpkins, good for the girls to paint next weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HOkIc3Ouhmc/TpoGRSzosxI/AAAAAAAAAuE/2svFA7E-3Vk/s1600/SANY0016.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HOkIc3Ouhmc/TpoGRSzosxI/AAAAAAAAAuE/2svFA7E-3Vk/s320/SANY0016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846375547777810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;After we checked out the pumpkins we headed into the farm to check out some chickens and sheep and pigs. At one point a big turkey attempted to hop out of his pen and spent a few minutes perched on the gate. Megan kept trying to go pet him. The attendants didn't seem too concerned, but turkey's aren't known for being gentle, so I had to keep snatching her back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J19GlEi9zFk/TpoGRQaoCsI/AAAAAAAAAt0/gM9gusZtZcI/s1600/SANY0018.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J19GlEi9zFk/TpoGRQaoCsI/AAAAAAAAAt0/gM9gusZtZcI/s320/SANY0018.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846374906006210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Checking out the ponies and miniature horses outside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Rr0OrDYmmk/TpoGQep_jYI/AAAAAAAAAts/7jOmvM0TkpE/s1600/SANY0020.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Rr0OrDYmmk/TpoGQep_jYI/AAAAAAAAAts/7jOmvM0TkpE/s320/SANY0020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846361548688770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On our way out, Megan tore her hand out of mine and ran to see the goats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kFWd49YK2U0/TpoGQKGTmiI/AAAAAAAAAtc/wp198WbtJfU/s1600/SANY0022.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kFWd49YK2U0/TpoGQKGTmiI/AAAAAAAAAtc/wp198WbtJfU/s320/SANY0022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663846356030298658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What I didn't get pictures of include the girls' favorite rides: the big roller slide. We went down that thing half a dozen times and I got a nice bruise on my hand since I didn't trust the two of them to go down it alone (8-10 feet high, what can I say? I'm a nervous mom).  And the cutest moment had to be Megan and the ducks. She was obsessed with the things. As we headed on our way out, we happened to be between two white ducks and their pond. They got nervous at our approach and ran straight in front of us. Megan was THRILLED and ran after them quacking. James snatched her before she chased them right into the water. Too bad those ducks wouldn't cooperate for a picture!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We plan to go back the day after Thanksgiving. Free admission to all the little rides and a chance to cut down our own Christmas tree!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-6811352261460735495?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6811352261460735495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/dewberry-farm-lots-of-pictures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6811352261460735495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6811352261460735495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/dewberry-farm-lots-of-pictures.html' title='Dewberry Farm (Lots of Pictures)'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VnRywrygx5E/TpoG7i0glJI/AAAAAAAAAvo/0kV__Ba0GYY/s72-c/SANY0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5285844352791328345</id><published>2011-10-04T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T10:05:33.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yard Work</title><content type='html'>I was crazy excited to move into a house with our two girls, especially with the idea of a yard to play in.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, having been apartment dwellers for so long, we did not have the tools for yard upkeep which meant it quickly got overgrown and I was reluctant to let the girls out in to our new private jungle, especially when the rain came and the grass, okay, okay, the weeds doubled in height practically overnight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finally bought a lawn mower and I got my first taste of lawn work. I had previously trimmed our bushes and our tree, but that was it, until today. Other than sweating like crazy and struggling with the tall grass and the lawn mower (I didn't think to change the height until later, so I &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; struggled), I found the experience... heart-warming. As I trimmed bushes put tree branches and bush trimmings into trash bags, the girls ran wild around the tree in our front yard and even offered to help. Then, as I mowed the lawn, they rode their bikes in the driveway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I basically loved it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though I was panting like a dog as I wheeled the lawn mower back into the garage, and hauled the three bags of grass clippings (before I got sick of emptying the bag and switched it out for the blow-it-out-the-side thing, yes, that is the technical name) and my back aches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I'm a little crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5285844352791328345?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5285844352791328345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/house-living.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5285844352791328345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5285844352791328345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/10/house-living.html' title='Yard Work'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6257287880908465789</id><published>2011-09-27T07:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T07:37:37.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cady's haircut</title><content type='html'>Cadence has been working hard on growing out a beautiful, curly mullet for the past year and a half or so. Her curls started coming in shortly after Megan was born and even then the back was noticeably longer than the top of her head.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of late, the curls have gotten very sloppy looking, even when I try to brush it out and get them to look neat. It just wasn't working. For awhile, I've been toying with the idea of chopping off the last few inches, knowing her curls would hide any imperfections I might cause with my amateur beauty shop attempts. But, with my good scissors tucked at the bottom of a box, I never really carried through.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until today. I had just dug through my sewing box last night and had my scissors in reach when I was combing Cadence's hair after her bath this morning. So, I snipped off the bottom few inches before I could think twice. It looks WAY neater than it did before, but she also looks older at the same time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uy3EbSNQXgE/ToHeAWC0T8I/AAAAAAAAAtU/ehhqmIz_ldc/s1600/haircut2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uy3EbSNQXgE/ToHeAWC0T8I/AAAAAAAAAtU/ehhqmIz_ldc/s320/haircut2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657046704452816834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tcFhoC6qUh4/ToHeAFynY_I/AAAAAAAAAtM/QAUw1XdHFj0/s1600/haircut1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tcFhoC6qUh4/ToHeAFynY_I/AAAAAAAAAtM/QAUw1XdHFj0/s320/haircut1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657046700089893874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if any one wants a before to compare it with:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XcK-vPsXCZY/Tin4gWxfiBI/AAAAAAAAAp8/RtTWyAd1xtU/s1600/IMG_0068.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 340px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XcK-vPsXCZY/Tin4gWxfiBI/AAAAAAAAAp8/RtTWyAd1xtU/s1600/IMG_0068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-6257287880908465789?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6257287880908465789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/cadys-haircut.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6257287880908465789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6257287880908465789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/cadys-haircut.html' title='Cady&apos;s haircut'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uy3EbSNQXgE/ToHeAWC0T8I/AAAAAAAAAtU/ehhqmIz_ldc/s72-c/haircut2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8476205309024265460</id><published>2011-09-23T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T13:23:44.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moms &amp; Tots at the temple</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s50ZBBGkT9I/TnzhQ298hjI/AAAAAAAAAtE/x8osxFJUvS4/s1600/2011-09-23%2B11.56.55.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s50ZBBGkT9I/TnzhQ298hjI/AAAAAAAAAtE/x8osxFJUvS4/s320/2011-09-23%2B11.56.55.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655642911819990578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls and I got to go to the temple today! I was talking myself out of it all morning, because I hate doing new things, especially with people I barely know. So glad I went, as things usually go.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Despite living in the same city as a temple, it's still a 40 minute trip. We met with some other moms at the church building and carpooled, giving me 40 minutes to chat with a woman I've smiled at but never had the chance to talk to before. The Houston Temple has a small sitting room in the annex that I assume is for baptisms and the like, but also doubles as a great place to corral a bunch of preschoolers, toddlers, and infants. Half the mom's went in to the temple, and the other half of us tried to keep the zoo under control. It wasn't bad at all, really. Everyone came prepared with toys and snacks and the kids all played well together, give me and a few other moms plenty of time to chat and get to know each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After about an hour, the other mom's returned, and the rest of us got to go inside. My first time inside the actual Houston temple and I was kind of completely lost because it's so much smaller than the Los Angeles one (seriously I'm pretty sure Houston's two locker rooms, the sitting area between the two AND the little chapel they have for before services could fit into the one locker room in the LA temple). Thankfully, I was not on my own and the other women were more than happy to politely point me in the right direction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I got to spend an hour doing initiatories. My first time getting to do so since doing my own. It was quiet, and relaxing, and pleasant. Then, feeling uplifted from an hour of that service, I got to walk back into the room and be joyfully greeted by two little girls who love me to pieces. I meant to get a picture of the girls playing outside the temple, but by the time I was finished inside, the girls were anxious for lunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, so glad I once again stepped outside my comfort zone and went. Although, spending an hour in the temple makes me really, really want to get a session in. Anyone want to fly down to babysit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-8476205309024265460?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8476205309024265460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/moms-tots-at-temple.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8476205309024265460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8476205309024265460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/moms-tots-at-temple.html' title='Moms &amp; Tots at the temple'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s50ZBBGkT9I/TnzhQ298hjI/AAAAAAAAAtE/x8osxFJUvS4/s72-c/2011-09-23%2B11.56.55.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-9089995844330045652</id><published>2011-09-14T15:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T15:51:49.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long-Term Goals</title><content type='html'>This is what I want to be when I grow up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="height: 195px; width: 320px"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FcN08Tg3PWw?version=3"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FcN08Tg3PWw?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="195" width="320"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-9089995844330045652?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/9089995844330045652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/long-term-goals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/9089995844330045652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/9089995844330045652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/long-term-goals.html' title='Long-Term Goals'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-230580074096084588</id><published>2011-09-13T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T11:22:28.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 13th</title><content type='html'>Without a working camera, I don't have any cute moments to share in too-cute picture form. So I shall attempt to paint a picture of how the past week has gone with words alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's remained another quiet week. Those weeks are fairly enjoyable in their own way. I get the house clean a lot more often in quiet weeks than I do in busy ones. But the girls and I also get extremely bored in quiet weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday we drove down to the church building for a Moms and Tots playdate. Lots of other parents from the ward showed up with their preschoolers and infants. Everyone brought bicycles and snacks and I brought the girls' oversized bouncy balls, which were such a big hit they spurred 90% of the fights that went on that morning. I didn't get to socialize much. First my own insecurity kept my tongue tied and then the girls got a little overwhelmed with so many people and started to get really clingy. We only stayed about an hour. In that hour, though, Megan spent most of it wandering as far as she could in the field surrounding the building, following some of the older boys. They ignored her, she ignored them. A few times she got far enough, I was about to get up to get her, but she seemed to realize she'd wandered too far and began meandering back towards the picnic tables. Cadence spent most of the time sulking because I wouldn't let her demand her balls back from the other kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was equally quiet. We did go grocery shopping so James could get six different types of chili, three types of meat, and several cans of different tomato textures to try out a super spicy chili for this Saturday's ward cook-off. He's aiming to get a prize for the hottest chili, but I refuse to let him just dump a bottle of hot sauce and call it good. The chili he pulled off was pretty spicy, more so since there's a sweetness when it first hits your tongue (a can of coke was used as well), then it starts to burn. He's eating it for lunch all week, since I can't feed it to the kids and I'm not a fan of spicy stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday came and went last Wednesday. I'm 26. I've decided that's one of those boring ages. 25 is a cool age to turn, because it's a nice round number. 27 has a kind of "older-20s without being close to 30" zen that makes it a fun age to say. But 26 is... just 26. Kind of like 28. The day itself passed rather uneventfully. A few phone calls, lots of facebook notifications, an email from the head of Writing.Com, and a slice of overcooked cheesecake (so unappetizing, a full 3/4 of the thing is still untouched in my fridge...). Next year will be better. It'll be a Friday birthday and we'll have found someone to babysit so James can take me out on a date. This year, though, a quiet birthday is fine. I've never had high expectations for my birthdays anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our laptop died on my birthday as well. Since we'd just bought the thing in May/June I was not  a happy camper. But a quick email to my computer-savvy got the ball rolling for me to replace the hard drive and get the whole thing up and running without a problem. I consider myself pretty proficient at computers, at least as well as the next person, but with Jim's help the whole process was a breeze and just took a little time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls... continue to tear the house apart and run wild. We recently took away Cadence's overnight diaper, something she's had since we started potty-training at the beginning of the year. It was a rough two weeks as we did everything we could to get her bowels moving, since she stubbornly held it in as much as possible. Saturday, though, she had a break-through and since then has been happily using the bathroom and staying dry overnight. Megan is showing an interest in following her sister's footsteps, but I'm not ready for that yet and she's not even 2 yet, so no rush. Though after some of the diapers she's had the past few days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's fun watching them play together. They're both bullies with each other, which makes it frustrating, but with Megan able to communicate more, they do play well. Cadence likes giving her sister orders and Megan loves being able to show she understands by carrying them out. I love watching Megan with James. At this age, Cadence's mommy-preference was strong, but Megan's pretty neutral. She prefers me when she's hurt or upset, but if she can't see me, James is a perfectly acceptable substitute and she enjoys sitting in his lap almost as much as mine. At night, if James is sitting on the couch and I'm busy, she'll happily climb into his lap and snuggle with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan really is a daredevil compared to her sister. We went to Chik-fil-A yesterday to split a bit of soft serve and let the girls use the play equipment. Cadence risked climbing to the top of the structure before she got nervous and came back down. Megan wanted to follow her and spent quite awhile attempting to climb the steps that were just too tall for her. Cadence lost interest in everything else when an older girl came in and began playing around. She immediately began mimicking the girl's moves, enjoying the novelty of some of the things she did (like attempting to climb the structure's poles). I had to drag them out of the place in the end, then I had to run back in and find the blanket Megan left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's another quiet day. Trying to get caught up with the house, since it tends to get away from me when I'm running errands. Gotta make dinner as well. Chicken stew and some biscuits. But biscuits will only happen if I get off my butt and go clean the kitchen. Suppose I should go do that now... *sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-230580074096084588?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/230580074096084588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/september-13th.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/230580074096084588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/230580074096084588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/september-13th.html' title='September 13th'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1839852617812766650</id><published>2011-09-05T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T15:46:31.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a weekly update</title><content type='html'>Labor Day weekend has gone well for us here in the Smith household. James normally works Saturday mornings since there's so much needing to be done at the new shop for awhile, but he talked to his supervisors and got approved to not be needed on Saturday (they can't force him to work Saturdays, but...) so we could spend the full 3-day weekend together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't do anything super special. Went to a few stores to pick up random necessities (like the ingredients and a pan for a baked cheesecake this upcoming Wednesday. No special reason or anything, just, you know, wanted a cheesecake this Wednesday...). We even bought a new video game, which isn't really new. It's old, but we didn't own it yet for some odd reason. Now we do. Problem solved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We missed church, unfortunately. Megan woke up crying at 5:30 and I laid on the couch with her and we both fell back asleep. And since James doesn't respond to my alarm clock, we both slept right through it and woke up right around the same time church was supposed to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happily, I still got adult conversation since the Relief Society presidency stopped by for a chat and then later that night we went to a family BBQ. Just us, the host family and one other family. The kids played well together and I got the chance to talk with two other moms in the ward. It was a nice evening and I'm glad they invited us. I'll have another chance to socialize with other moms this Friday at a ward Moms &amp;amp; Tots get together. I'm nervous, as I usually am in new situations, but excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's been pretty laidback. For such a long weekend, you'd suppose we got more done, but we didn't. We really just sat around with our feet kicked up and enjoyed the peace and quiet of just staying home without any responsibilities for a few days except what to have for dinner. James has done a good job of spoiling me. Chinese food on Saturday and Taco Cabana for lunch today. Mmm. I am crazy about Taco Cabana. They have the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;best&lt;/span&gt; handmade tortillas that are included with every meal and their steak fajita tacos are amazing. We discovered this gem our first few weeks in Houston (when Seaboard was paying for all our meals and we were free to try every dining out option in the immediate area) and have gone back twice since. So yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls have adjusted really well, I think. Of course, I don't think they comprehend just how big this move was. It's still hot outside and they still get put in timeout in the corner whenever they do something wrong. Taz still hides in their room and Hanna still hides out of reach. Daddy comes home and we eat dinner. We watch Strawberry Shortcake (albeit, on a bigger, better television screen now). We play with Legos. Life is same ol' same ol' for those two little girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even record how much they've grown because I honestly barely notice. Cadence's learning has slowed down to the point I can't pinpoint new things as easily and it's hard for me to notice Megan's growths because they're not as obvious when I've got Cadence to compare her to. For example, it took me several weeks to realize Megan was using sentences. Mostly she was parroting her sister, but she quickly began to understand the syntax rules and coming up with the sentences on her own. It's made her much more vocal recently. Cadence has learned to link descriptive words with nouns to specify things. Not just colors like she used to. But the other day we had star-shaped chicken nuggets and she was calling them chicken stars. She is also learning a ton of things from watching television. The other day I caught her putting a doll on the back of her stuffed dog and telling it to "giddy up, horsie".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They both continue to grow like weeds. I'm afraid to measure them, because I don't want to know for sure how big they've gotten. Cadence was just shy of 3 feet last time I measured her. Not sure I want to see her hit that particular mark yet. I'm already fighting the idea of a haircut, though I know she could use one to even out her mullet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've progressed to the last stage of potty-training for Cadence by taking away her bedtime diapers. So far no accidents, but we have had a few issues. Nothing unexpected, but I won't say she's 100% potty-trained yet. Megan shows an interest, but I want a few more months before we get her going. Maybe after she's 2 I'll consider letting my last baby grow up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1839852617812766650?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1839852617812766650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-weekly-update.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1839852617812766650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1839852617812766650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-weekly-update.html' title='Just a weekly update'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5989375563885547051</id><published>2011-08-26T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T08:12:48.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's raining, it's pouring</title><content type='html'>Wow, over two weeks since my last update. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have little news to share, really. I have spent pretty much everyday of the past 3 weeks chasing two way-too-energetic toddlers around and picking up the mess. Or, sitting on my butt and thinking how much I don't want to pick up yet another mess. Welcome to motherhood, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James continues to enjoy his new position. He's had a few hiccups as he adjusts to a few changes between his old shop and this new one. But, overall, he's still well-liked by his managers. He's working crazy hours, unfortunately. Since some of the machines are still not up and running after the move, the workload on the machines that are running is doubled, which means they need as much as they can get out of their operators. James, naturally, is working as many hours as they ask of him within reason. Once things run smoothly, the hours will calm down, but he expects to be pretty busy for quite awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, most of the time, it's just me and the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we got caught in a decent downpour. We'd experienced some Houston rain shortly after reaching the city, but Thursday's downpour put it all to shame. I pulled into the small parking lot of Babies R Us while it was overcast (lots of thick, low, gray clouds threatening to rain at any second at this point). The parking lot really is tiny. Four parking spots deep with the extra row along the far side. I parked at the "far side". As I was checking out ten minutes later I noticed it was raining outside, so I put Cadence into the cart and ducked into the rain. It took me all of one second to decide my best option was to run. So run I did, as quickly as safely possible. Megan, who hates baths and swimming pools, immediately began freaking out. Cadence, my water baby, was bouncing in the cart and laughing. And in the time it took me to get to the car, we were all soaked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 380px; height: 243px;" src="http://futurshox.net/blog/pics/aug08-rain3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not talking our hair has a sheen of water over it and our clothes are damp. By the time I got the girls in the car, their hair was plastered to their heads. My jeans remained wet for the entire 20 minute ride and for the next hour indoors. It was crazy. I turned my windshields to their highest setting and it barely kept up with the rain we were experiencing. There weren't rain drops on the places the wipers missed. It was a solid flow of water pouring down my windshield. Craziness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, I learned I walked out into the absolutely worst of the day's storm at just the right moment. I have to say, I'm rather pleased. It was an awesome rain experience, lol. If it wasn't for Megan, I might've enjoyed just strolling to the car so Cadence and I could enjoy it. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, that's really the most exciting news of the past few weeks. Unless you count paying someone to mow our lawn, or the delivery of our washer and dryer. Well, I guess the TV's exciting news, but not really blog-worthy. We really got it so we could fully enjoy Skyrim when the time comes (uh-oh, my geek is showing...) And, no, I will not bore you all with a geek review of Skyrim when the time comes. Just... when this blog goes silent again in November, know I'm too busy to care about any of you and my kids are probably being unwashed and unfed. ;-) (Totally kidding about that last part, mostly...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, my camera has officially gone kaput for the time being. No real worries. I'll be getting one next week for an early birthday present. Then I'll get lots of pictures for you all to enjoy. And maybe I'll even get some family pictures done soon so you can see the whole good-looking brood (maybe, it'll take a lot of sweet-talking on my end to get James to spend his free time in front of a camera, lol).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5989375563885547051?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5989375563885547051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-raining-its-pouring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5989375563885547051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5989375563885547051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-raining-its-pouring.html' title='It&apos;s raining, it&apos;s pouring'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5695319498204095607</id><published>2011-08-08T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T15:36:35.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>House Pictures (part 1)</title><content type='html'>Rather than wait and hope my house comes together any time soon, I  figured I'd show it off as best I could under the circumstances. Obviously, we are not fully settled. There are boxes of books in one corner and I was in the middle of cleaning (thus the pile in the middle of the room) when I decided to take the pictures. Anyway, just the front room for today. The bedrooms are still a WIP. The girls' playroom has a stack of empty boxes filling an entire corner and I want to hang pictures and such before I take pictures there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the front room. This is the view from the front door. Had to buy a cheap desk for our desktop computer since our old one is currently in about a dozen pieces in our garage. But this works, because the smaller desk means the whole thing takes up less space in general and I'm happy with that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1zBaw9nTk94/TkBj3sutM6I/AAAAAAAAAsE/uoSavUcLZMc/s1600/IMG_0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1zBaw9nTk94/TkBj3sutM6I/AAAAAAAAAsE/uoSavUcLZMc/s320/IMG_0018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638616542018876322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The view from the opposite side of the main room. Unhung pictures and piles to be picked up and all. The rug in front of the couch is covering a very worn spot in the carpet, but it works, so I'm happy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2YFzNfhCL5s/TkBj3At4RyI/AAAAAAAAAr8/uJkxRBA5j08/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2YFzNfhCL5s/TkBj3At4RyI/AAAAAAAAAr8/uJkxRBA5j08/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638616530204247842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view of my living room from the loft. A nice overhead look to give you a good idea of the whole thing. Enjoy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xpRuPKqCHHU/TkBj39XXC9I/AAAAAAAAAsM/sjE_mEJHSD0/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xpRuPKqCHHU/TkBj39XXC9I/AAAAAAAAAsM/sjE_mEJHSD0/s320/IMG_0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638616546484358098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, there it is. A little peek into my new world. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5695319498204095607?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5695319498204095607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/08/house-pictures-part-1.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5695319498204095607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5695319498204095607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/08/house-pictures-part-1.html' title='House Pictures (part 1)'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1zBaw9nTk94/TkBj3sutM6I/AAAAAAAAAsE/uoSavUcLZMc/s72-c/IMG_0018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5996036443422816253</id><published>2011-08-03T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T10:17:16.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just some pictures</title><content type='html'>Day 16 in Houston and still living in a hotel (day 21 of hotel living in general). The novelty has worn off and rubbed raw. But, what can you do when your stuff is sitting in a moving van 800 miles away? We spent a lot of time in the car running errands, driving over to the house to let the girls run around, and picking up lunches and dinners (pretty much over eating out as well).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eqdGOeDm_P8/Tjk6kwJ8UvI/AAAAAAAAArU/HB_UupB6kOY/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eqdGOeDm_P8/Tjk6kwJ8UvI/AAAAAAAAArU/HB_UupB6kOY/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600811707192050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gz_1skrkVDQ/Tjk6kiNsoBI/AAAAAAAAArM/aeegqdpZJJw/s1600/IMG_0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gz_1skrkVDQ/Tjk6kiNsoBI/AAAAAAAAArM/aeegqdpZJJw/s320/IMG_0005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600807964844050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I loved this picture of the clouds. I think it describes Houston weather pretty well, lol. See those storm clouds coasting in right over the blue sky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XskErfEjcnI/Tjk6lLYPFbI/AAAAAAAAArc/W-KsIz2OAz4/s1600/IMG_0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XskErfEjcnI/Tjk6lLYPFbI/AAAAAAAAArc/W-KsIz2OAz4/s320/IMG_0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600819014899122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We brought our laptop to the house when the cable guy came to get our internet up and running. James taught Megan how to play Bejeweled. He moved the mouse and she'd click when he told her to. It was super adorable to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJTJj8MRrDI/Tjk6Scj8jWI/AAAAAAAAAq8/0JxYZvzu8s0/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yJTJj8MRrDI/Tjk6Scj8jWI/AAAAAAAAAq8/0JxYZvzu8s0/s320/IMG_0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600497209904482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then they just started goofing off together. James is such a goof with the girls and they just love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y69ImT2Rd0o/Tjk6SyjES7I/AAAAAAAAArE/VKUt3NmZ4-c/s1600/IMG_0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y69ImT2Rd0o/Tjk6SyjES7I/AAAAAAAAArE/VKUt3NmZ4-c/s320/IMG_0008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600503111797682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls love the hotel bed. Cadence is pretending to sleep. She was even fake snoring. The girl cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YyBXpU2JY_E/Tjk6SLfSYnI/AAAAAAAAAq0/5zDbOwWz6oY/s1600/IMG_0011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YyBXpU2JY_E/Tjk6SLfSYnI/AAAAAAAAAq0/5zDbOwWz6oY/s320/IMG_0011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600492626961010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;James went back to work on Monday. He was getting antsy with having 2 1/2 weeks off. I can relate. Even after almost 3 years of not working or going to school, I still have antsy moments. Anyway, the only thing that stinks is having to wake up at 5:30 to drive him to the shop. The girls did well the first day, though they did take two naps each. Yesterday, they both dropped by 8am and slept until I woke them up at 10:30 to go run errands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YcPrN_gjftk/Tjk6R1_3OdI/AAAAAAAAAqs/iAfvzNS0p1U/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YcPrN_gjftk/Tjk6R1_3OdI/AAAAAAAAAqs/iAfvzNS0p1U/s320/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600486858013138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m3RzPE9RfBI/Tjk6RqBWFSI/AAAAAAAAAqk/gUa-2oKEtxk/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m3RzPE9RfBI/Tjk6RqBWFSI/AAAAAAAAAqk/gUa-2oKEtxk/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636600483643004194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My final picture is me bragging (again) about my brilliant child. While drawing on the hotel wall is obviously a bad thing, I was impressed with her skill. I did a little google research and rediscovered some things from my various child development classes that implies she's well ahead of the curve artistically. I remember seeing similar pictures drawn by one of my more talented Sunbeams near the end of our year together. Probably not the best ruler to measure Cadence's development with, but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WWRKObP9Ay4/TjlAer8OrFI/AAAAAAAAArk/9jsTqNIWoHA/s1600/IMG_0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WWRKObP9Ay4/TjlAer8OrFI/AAAAAAAAArk/9jsTqNIWoHA/s320/IMG_0010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636607304566484050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Speaking of Sunbeams... guess who'll be one in only 5 months?!?!?!&lt;/strikethrough&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5996036443422816253?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5996036443422816253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/08/just-some-pictures.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5996036443422816253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5996036443422816253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/08/just-some-pictures.html' title='Just some pictures'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eqdGOeDm_P8/Tjk6kwJ8UvI/AAAAAAAAArU/HB_UupB6kOY/s72-c/IMG_0004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7277243177511767304</id><published>2011-07-29T07:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T07:17:19.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Houston Top 5</title><content type='html'>Our stuff just left Bakersfield on Wednesday via the moving company, so we continue our hotel stays. I am beyond ready to be settling in my new house. Every day, James and I go over there for one reason or another. Yesterday it was to have the fridge delivered. Today, the cable internet gets turned on. We water the lawn and spend time with the cats and let the girls run crazy in an enclosed area larger than our cramped hotel room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are ready to be home. The girls can't express this particular desire, but they are beginning to grow restless and Cadence actually cries every time we leave the house (not because it's home, but because it's big enough to actually run).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we've been here about a week and a half, so here is my list of top 10 things of Houston (so far), in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Rain - It fascinates me. You can see blue skies and sunshine but you can still have your windshield wipers on full blast because you're stuck under one of the fat gray clouds that happens to be raining at that exact moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The Clouds (and blue sky) - I never fully realized what we were missing. There are some seriously gorgeous clouds here in Houston. Big fat fluffy ones. All the time. And a bright blue sky behind it. No smog to diminish the blue and no mountains to comb out the fluffy clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Half Price Books - Its exactly how it sounds. A used book store chain. We got a hard cover copy of a Wheel of Time book (that we already own, just not in hardback...) and a paper back cover copy of another Wheel of Time book (same situation, lol). James also got a new role-playing book. We got a DVD and I got another book I've been wanting for awhile. And we only spent $35 ($20 of that was the role-playing book).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Sweet Tomatoes - Better known as Soup Plantation, at least to me. Oh yum. And it's not too far from our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Showboat DriveIn Theater - I've been sulking that I won't get to see Harry Potter's final chapter until it came out on DVD unless we befriended a new babysitter. But, we're going to see it AND Captain America tonight. Bring our portable DVD player to entertain the kids and close our car so if they scream they're only bothering us and enjoy two movies we've been wanting to see for $10. Score!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did intend to do top 10, but I'm running out of time, so top 5 it is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7277243177511767304?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7277243177511767304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/houston-top-5.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7277243177511767304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7277243177511767304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/houston-top-5.html' title='Houston Top 5'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5365851628045046354</id><published>2011-07-22T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T17:40:13.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The past week or so (with pictures)</title><content type='html'>We were homeless starting Wednesday, the 13th. Packers came early in the morning and packed everything up. The girls spent the day with Aunt Robyn (and eventually the rest of the family). And I spend the day running errands, checking into hotels, and occasionally kicking my feet up at my mom's house, trying to enjoy every last moment. We enjoyed a dinner at La Mina, since it's my all time favorite Bakersfield restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Megan ignored the chips and salsa and tried to eat me instead&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/--ztzjU7kCx0/Tin45a88O_I/AAAAAAAAAqU/XMnV6QRLu5k/s1600/IMG_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ztzjU7kCx0/Tin45a88O_I/AAAAAAAAAqU/XMnV6QRLu5k/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306474374675442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He doesn't know I took this picture, lol:&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/-SDDh-Q7FRUg/Tin45FVK66I/AAAAAAAAAqM/oaK9JGJYrfc/s1600/IMG_0058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SDDh-Q7FRUg/Tin45FVK66I/AAAAAAAAAqM/oaK9JGJYrfc/s320/IMG_0058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306468570721186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence enjoyed dipping the chips in the salsa, but not eating them. She also begged for Megan's high chair:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xdOIDGJMjcI/Tin45qAE9FI/AAAAAAAAAqc/Jr-wT_590Nc/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xdOIDGJMjcI/Tin45qAE9FI/AAAAAAAAAqc/Jr-wT_590Nc/s320/IMG_0056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306478414361682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thursday, we drove out to Taft to see James's grandparents one last time (as well as meet up with Jared and his girlfriend who were in town), then all of us trekked out to Porterville to see Talon, Jacob, Charish and Sydnee. After a few pictures and dinner at Taco Bell, we all went to the park. The girls, who'd begun showing signs of having a very stressful week, perked up once we were at the park and I got some super cute shots:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XcK-vPsXCZY/Tin4gWxfiBI/AAAAAAAAAp8/RtTWyAd1xtU/s1600/IMG_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XcK-vPsXCZY/Tin4gWxfiBI/AAAAAAAAAp8/RtTWyAd1xtU/s320/IMG_0068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306043756185618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UrTO7BTstnE/Tin4f-Mdw-I/AAAAAAAAAp0/Eq7wJN_zokk/s1600/IMG_0070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UrTO7BTstnE/Tin4f-Mdw-I/AAAAAAAAAp0/Eq7wJN_zokk/s320/IMG_0070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306037158429666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fAeOftNKq9U/Tin4gZ4hOlI/AAAAAAAAAqE/ZecIFoWg8x8/s1600/IMG_0076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fAeOftNKq9U/Tin4gZ4hOlI/AAAAAAAAAqE/ZecIFoWg8x8/s320/IMG_0076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306044590963282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aE_UGHiHAIs/Tin4fh4FLlI/AAAAAAAAAps/5ppGZGXHGqM/s1600/IMG_0082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aE_UGHiHAIs/Tin4fh4FLlI/AAAAAAAAAps/5ppGZGXHGqM/s320/IMG_0082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306029556739666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We spent most of Friday with my family, except for dinner with James's boss. It was a very strange day, and we all started crying when it came time to leave. Heck, I was blinking back tears when I was trying to track down the kids' shoes to put them on. I cried for awhile after that. Every time I had myself under control, James would pat my knee or squeeze my hand or give me a hug and I'd start crying all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning, we said good-bye to Bakersfield and drove through Barstow and on to Flagstaff. It was fairly uneventful. It was our hardest day with the girls as they got used to this idea of a road trip. By the last hour we were counting down miles and trying to keep Cadence happy long enough to reach the hotel. The second day she did better. James woke up at 2:30am and we just went. We were out of the hotel by 3:30 and on our way. It was great, because we had an amazing sunrise over the Arizona desert on the way to New Mexico. Gorgeous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dIvjq6mChyw/Tin4fZPhi8I/AAAAAAAAApk/wY46QFyJ5Sg/s1600/IMG_0084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dIvjq6mChyw/Tin4fZPhi8I/AAAAAAAAApk/wY46QFyJ5Sg/s320/IMG_0084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632306027239148482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The best part of the early start was the girls sleeping for the first few hours and then being perfectly content to watch their DVDs between stops:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nW8bTotVYWg/Tin3msAuQMI/AAAAAAAAApc/aOJeJm-_Yv4/s1600/IMG_0088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nW8bTotVYWg/Tin3msAuQMI/AAAAAAAAApc/aOJeJm-_Yv4/s320/IMG_0088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632305053024796866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The third day, we were ready to reach Houston. The girls, now used to road trips, did all right all said and done. We stopped off in Fort Worth to visit an old cemetery where one of my ancestors was buried. Unfortunately, they didn't have a gravestone for her, but there were a few others with the same last name:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eQFyOzkWACw/Tin3mfRsvSI/AAAAAAAAApU/42-GYVLqTWY/s1600/IMG_0089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eQFyOzkWACw/Tin3mfRsvSI/AAAAAAAAApU/42-GYVLqTWY/s320/IMG_0089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632305049606339874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We reached Houston, finally, and were happy to be here. We went shopping shortly after arriving to stock up our kitchenette for the three days in our first hotel. The girls loved the car attached to the front of the cart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rhXHogXxXEk/Tin3mHkRf8I/AAAAAAAAApM/TfFEsg62NRc/s1600/IMG_0093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rhXHogXxXEk/Tin3mHkRf8I/AAAAAAAAApM/TfFEsg62NRc/s320/IMG_0093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632305043241795522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And, of course, we had to stop by the big Bass Pro Shop just down the street. Cadence and Megan LOVED the aquarium full of catfish and the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cyqwgm8H1CE/Tin3llO-dwI/AAAAAAAAApE/NUwk72Rvseg/s1600/IMG_0094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cyqwgm8H1CE/Tin3llO-dwI/AAAAAAAAApE/NUwk72Rvseg/s320/IMG_0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632305034025662210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan cracked me up because she was mimicking this O-mouthed fish. She and the fish just stared at each other with their round mouths for a full minute until Megan started giggling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-phROuxRt0Xo/Tin3lfZl9zI/AAAAAAAAAo8/6cvTJiOf8EM/s1600/IMG_0096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-phROuxRt0Xo/Tin3lfZl9zI/AAAAAAAAAo8/6cvTJiOf8EM/s320/IMG_0096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632305032459581234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, obviously there's more. We've been keeping busy trying to get the car registered, signing our lease, filling out paperwork, and all the other important stuff you're supposed to do when you move to a new state. Our stuff is finally en route from Bakersfield to Houston, so we're hoping to set up house within the next week or so and plan to post pictures as soon as it's done! We've also been enjoying some summer rain. I just had to bust up laughing when I walked out of the hotel and curse myself for not grabbing my sunglasses, then 2 minutes down the road I have to turn my wipers on full force. I don't think I've turned the wipers on that high since we bought the car!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5365851628045046354?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5365851628045046354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/past-week-or-so-with-pictures.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5365851628045046354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5365851628045046354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/past-week-or-so-with-pictures.html' title='The past week or so (with pictures)'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ztzjU7kCx0/Tin45a88O_I/AAAAAAAAAqU/XMnV6QRLu5k/s72-c/IMG_0057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6721020590592739853</id><published>2011-07-21T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T07:02:17.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Promise</title><content type='html'>A new post is on the way soon. We've had a few hiccups here in Houston, namely, learning we'll be hotel-dwellers for twice as long as initially expected. Thankfully, Seaboard put us in a really nice hotel that's more like a 1-bedroom apartment. The girls sleep in the living room's pullout couch and James and I claimed the queen-sized bed in the separate bedroom. And we recently stocked up the full-sized fridge (the only thing this kitchen lacks is an oven, but at least it has a stovetop!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we have arrived safely in Houston, well, Pearland, rather. We're off to get our fancy Texas licenses and register our car. We have the keys to our new house (though no stuff to move into it yet, thus the reason for our extended hotel-stay).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we're doing good. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-6721020590592739853?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6721020590592739853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-promise.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6721020590592739853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6721020590592739853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-promise.html' title='I Promise'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2891328103829214102</id><published>2011-07-09T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T11:34:15.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the word?</title><content type='html'>Life is surprisingly quiet, considering this time next week we'll be on the road toward Flagstaff. I plan on taking advantage of having family nearby to get all my cleaning and organizing done so the packers' job is easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls have been crazy lately. Everyone tells me they're probably sensing that something big is right around the corner. I believe it. I've noticed changes in my own way of getting through the day and I think the girls have picked up on it. They've definitely picked up on the fact that I have way less patience than normal recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, a little brag post before I run and put on a bit of make-up for my lunch date:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence is amazing us with how smart she is. She picks up so much just from interaction. She's able to count in her head (small numbers) and tell me how many things she has. For example, if I give her three cookies, she doesn't have to count them out loud to recognize she has three of them. She's speaking in full sentences almost entirely now. The heat's gotten to her recently and she's been whining in one-word sentences, but mostly she'll chatter at us nonstop. She loves songs and now has a small arsenal of favorites. She won't sing with me when I'm singing but at night I'll hear her singing "Wheels on the bus" or her favorite: "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan's talking like crazy, too. Unlike Cadence, who picked up words I used frequently, Megan has picked up on her sister's favorite words. Our favorite of hers is a very pronounced "He-ey!" whenever someone does something she disapproves of. She still monkeys Cadence in everything and has a chronic case of the "me-toos". She's so cute when she wants a diaper change. She'll bend over and put her head on the ground, then flop her butt sideways and roll to her back and grin up at him. Thanks to her sister, she's also very much aware of bodily functions such as "pee", "poop" and "fart". And if she ever hears a fart sound, real or not, she will instantly run over to me and pull on the waistband of my pants to see if it was me. Cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, kind of nervous how they'll handle the upcoming road trip and week or more of hotel stays. I'm optimistic, though. So long as they have plenty of freedom to run themselves ragged, they're pretty easy-going kids. We've split it up so we only have one really long day of driving and two 7-8 hour days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-2891328103829214102?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2891328103829214102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/whats-word.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2891328103829214102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2891328103829214102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/whats-word.html' title='What&apos;s the word?'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8038492333458728908</id><published>2011-07-03T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T17:36:48.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Countdowns</title><content type='html'>10 days until the packers come and pack everything we own into boxes, making this place uninhabitable and forcing us into a hotel for our final days in Bakersfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 days until Harry Potter &amp;amp; The Deathly Hallows Part 2 (which I will be unable to see in theater, drat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 days until we check out of our hotel, load up our car and begin our trek to Houston&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 days until we reach Houston and officially become Texans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 days until we get the key to our &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--L4Q1tNbPQQ/TgOKPZyeM6I/AAAAAAAAAmI/H2jCLb2bUvo/s1600/hr2757827-1.jpg"&gt;new house&lt;/a&gt;!!! (Fancy link for those that haven't seen the picture yet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66 days until my 26th birthday (might as well throw this one in here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;131 days until Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is released (I'm only slightly geeking out over it... Really, only the teensiest little bit)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;136 days until Megan's 2nd birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;137 days until Cadence's 3rd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(While we're at it, I should backtrack and say 129 days until our 4th wedding anniversary. Guess what my anniversary present is... Refer to the 131 day countdown if you need the reminder. Or maybe we'll make that James's present and I can get myself something pretty.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 8 months (242 days) until Wheel of Time's final book is released and I become a bad mom while I ignore my kids for the 48 hours it'll take to read it (I'd say 24 hours, but let's be realistic, I do have two kids to watch here and the book will probably be close to 1000 pages). You can totally expect a little banner countdown thing added to my blog once the final release date is announced (just like last time). Again, only slightly geeking out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And 9 months until... just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-8038492333458728908?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8038492333458728908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/countdowns.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8038492333458728908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8038492333458728908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/07/countdowns.html' title='Countdowns'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1768412213687408841</id><published>2011-06-28T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T08:08:39.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Impromptu Beach Trip</title><content type='html'>When James got to work Monday morning, things went pretty much as expected. They had no clue what to do with him. He could have just kicked his feet up and been paid to sit around all day, but instead took the day off, came home, and we did a practice road trip and drove to the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, it was a great learning experience for our upcoming Houston road-trip. We already have a dozen or so "now we knows" for the trip (such as "now we know coloring books don't work for half as long in the car as they do in Sacrament" or "now we know if we let them run around for just 15 minutes we can probably squeeze another hour of nearly-fuss-free driving out of them").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, instead of driving through the Grapevine and turning toward Ventura, we cut through Taft and drove the windy Highway 33 instead. It actually was a beautiful road to travel. Lots of flowers and several gorgeous views of the foothills. Wasn't much of a shortcut, though. While it might have shaved some miles off our trip, the mountain road kept us at a slower pace. Still, we drove home the same way and enjoyed it just as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, pictures of our beach visit. First, Cadence &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loved&lt;/span&gt; the sand. She started digging in it as soon as we had the towels spread and handed her the sand toys. She was absolutely covered in sand by the time we left and we had to actually strip her down and cover her in a towel because she'd managed to get sand in pretty much every crevice and I didn't want her sitting in that for 2 1/2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXqaQhogQjE/TgnqiHQ1BfI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/ZK1cES2jZE8/s1600/IMG_0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXqaQhogQjE/TgnqiHQ1BfI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/ZK1cES2jZE8/s320/IMG_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623283481534858738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan was a little less enthusiastic after the long drive and refused to leave my lap (notice my white legs underneath her), but eventually she warmed up to the idea and was playing happily:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ofjf0jXowSw/TgnqioZB3MI/AAAAAAAAAmY/t5q63Y9fY8g/s1600/IMG_0040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ofjf0jXowSw/TgnqioZB3MI/AAAAAAAAAmY/t5q63Y9fY8g/s320/IMG_0040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623283490427624642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence enjoyed the waves, but they were pretty high for beach waves yesterday and she wasn't too sure about that. Especially when one splashed her in the face and she got a big gulp (probably through her nose too) of salty ocean water. She enjoyed dangling from James's arms as the waves came toward her, but she pronounced herself "done" a lot sooner than either of us expected once the wave hit her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFaG6xsGUls/Tgnqi8jiJ9I/AAAAAAAAAmg/koSWbDVvHRw/s1600/IMG_0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFaG6xsGUls/Tgnqi8jiJ9I/AAAAAAAAAmg/koSWbDVvHRw/s320/IMG_0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623283495840393170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the end, we didn't stay as long as we might have hoped. After about an hour, we packed things up and headed to the showers to try to get as much sand off of us as possible before getting back in the car. Probably best. James and his fair skin were starting to turn pink while we were out there, but he avoided a sunburn in the end. I bet if we'd stayed any longer he'd have been rubbing aloe vera on his face and neck all evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RpZ6WQVjszI/TgnqjFrKcWI/AAAAAAAAAmo/ogI985e4OZk/s1600/IMG_0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RpZ6WQVjszI/TgnqjFrKcWI/AAAAAAAAAmo/ogI985e4OZk/s320/IMG_0045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623283498288312674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, we can find a nice beach in Houston. I'm sure there are some, it is close to the gulf, after all. So this won't be the last beach we visit. But it probably is the last time we visit the Pacific Ocean (aww, what a sad thought).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1768412213687408841?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1768412213687408841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/impromptu-beach-trip.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1768412213687408841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1768412213687408841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/impromptu-beach-trip.html' title='Impromptu Beach Trip'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CXqaQhogQjE/TgnqiHQ1BfI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/ZK1cES2jZE8/s72-c/IMG_0039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2687491460860856115</id><published>2011-06-23T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T11:49:51.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Houston, here we come</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mr2way.us/yahoo_site_admin/assets/images/HoustonSkyLine.26163325_std.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 176px;" src="http://mr2way.us/yahoo_site_admin/assets/images/HoustonSkyLine.26163325_std.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know I've mentioned this once or twice in passing in this blog, but I've put off major announcements until we had official news to share. And, well, after months of waiting, wondering, and living off every bit of rumor and gossip we could get our hands (ears?) on, we have official news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James's first day of work in Houston is on August 1, 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be out of here two weeks before than. The movers will be coming to our place on Friday, July 15th. We'll spend Saturday cleaning up the apartment, turning in keys, and spending those last final moments with family. Then bright and early Sunday morning, July 17th, we'll load up our car and leave Bakersfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's bittersweet. It's a great job move for James. In Houston there is far more potential for him than if we stay in Bakersfield. Plus, the move is also getting him a raise. And Houston has far more culture to introduce our kids to as they grow up. Leaving family behind, though, is a major blemish on our rosy picture. Bakersfield has been my home for 12 years now. It's the longest I've been in any one place. I graduated high school here, met my husband here, graduated college and had my children here. We'll be leaving the comfort of the amazing support system we have here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are lots of bonuses, of course, beyond James's job. First, though we'll be on the opposite side of Houston, we'll still be closer to a temple than we are here. And what a pretty temple it is!:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mission.net/texas/houston/south/images/temple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 395px; height: 297px;" src="http://www.mission.net/texas/houston/south/images/temple.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're also upgrading our apartment for a 1500 sq foot house with a backyard, 2-car garage and access to a washer and dryer that doesn't require a key and a trek across the complex. We submitted a rental application for a place already. We haven't been approved yet, but we foresee no complications ahead:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--L4Q1tNbPQQ/TgOKPZyeM6I/AAAAAAAAAmI/H2jCLb2bUvo/s1600/hr2757827-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--L4Q1tNbPQQ/TgOKPZyeM6I/AAAAAAAAAmI/H2jCLb2bUvo/s320/hr2757827-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621488757113762722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there it is. In 3 1/2 weeks, we'll be gone. It's crazy to consider. I'm both terrified and excited. James has spent the past 2 weeks in Houston and he's excited for us to move there. Wish us luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-2687491460860856115?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2687491460860856115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/houston-here-we-come.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2687491460860856115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2687491460860856115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/houston-here-we-come.html' title='Houston, here we come'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--L4Q1tNbPQQ/TgOKPZyeM6I/AAAAAAAAAmI/H2jCLb2bUvo/s72-c/hr2757827-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4429288882721146096</id><published>2011-06-15T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T23:20:29.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I got a sunburn</title><content type='html'>With the summer temperatures finally getting up to where they're supposed to be (I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; complaining about summer's late arrival, FYI), it seemed the perfect chance to march my little troop down to the pool. Not being &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;entirely&lt;/span&gt; crazy, I waited until Chad could join us so I could have an extra set of hands on deck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence was basically all set to go as soon as I had the bathing suits and diapers in hand. She was literally bouncing up and down as she stripped herself down, too impatient to wait for me to do it. Megan was a little less excited. In truth, she cried the whole time I changed her and even attempted to take the swim diaper off as soon as I'd put it on. Meanwhile, Cadence was running in and out of her room and babbling some random order at me during the whole process. It took me awhile to realize she was demanding I pull down the inflatable baby ring. I was quite impressed she remembered that from last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan snuggled in our laps as we dug out the second inflatable ring and Chad blew it up for me, then we paraded our way down to the pool. Cadence refused to wait long enough to get her sandals on and ran across the hot sidewalk. She knew exactly where to go, again astounding me with her recall from a year ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in the pool, Cadence was in her element. She was all grins, giggles, and kicking legs as she attempted to propel herself and her little yellow ring around the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan was... not thrilled. She had a death grip on my shoulder, clutching me with both arms and legs and burying her head against my neck. If I ever attempted to hold her out away from me, all four limbs stretched forward as she fussed to be brought back to safety. I spent the majority of our pool visit sitting on the edge of the pool. Megan was perfectly content to sit between my legs and let her feet sit in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chad stayed the night last night, so when the apartment began to get warm again after lunch, we pulled the bathing suits from where they hung over the tub and got changed. Cadence, once more, was ecstatic. Megan fought even harder than the day before. But, by the end of our pool experience, I'd tricked her into having fun and playing in the pool. Except, when she found out how I'd deceived her, she went right back to the monkey grip on my torso and refused to play anymore. So I climbed out, put her in her Spongebob poncho towel to avoid her fair skin getting sunburned) and waited for Cadence to wear herself out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, all my time catering to Megan's "Nooooo water nooooo" demands left my pasty white shoulders defenseless. The girls remained unpinkified, but when I finally got around to taking my shower after they were in bed and the hot water hit my shoulders... yeah, found out I was sunburned. Luckily, James got a bad sunburn at work last week so we have a full bottle of aloe vera. The only problem? Part of the sunburn is in that unreachable spot in middle of my back. At least I don't have a little white handprint from Megan's kung-fu grip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-4429288882721146096?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4429288882721146096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-got-sunburn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4429288882721146096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4429288882721146096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-got-sunburn.html' title='I got a sunburn'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-48475218732027243</id><published>2011-06-13T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T10:04:06.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation with Cadence</title><content type='html'>Me: "Okay, let's get shoes on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "Yeah, we go to Walmart!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "You want to go to Walmart?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "Yeah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Okay, get your shoes on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "Yeah, we go to Nana's house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Nana's not home yet. We can't go to Nana's house. We're going to Walmart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "No, I don't want to go to Walmart." *while shaking head and giving me a very serious look*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "We're going to Walmart. Not Nana's house. Go get your shoes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "We go in the stroller."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No, we're going in the car. The white car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "No, I don't want the car." *again shaking her head and giving me a very serious look*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "We're going to Walmart, in the car. Go get your shoes, please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "Okay. I'll get shoes." *returns with shoes on and a hat* "I don't want shoes. I'll wear a hat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "You're wearing shoes now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "Yeah, I got green shoes. I got green shoes. Pink. I got pink shoes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Okay, you ready to go to Walmart?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence: "Okay! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that I can have conversations with her now, lol. Even if they are random, rambling nonsense. Her facial expressions and some of her inflections... I love this little girl (who's not so little anymore).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-48475218732027243?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/48475218732027243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/conversation-with-cadence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/48475218732027243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/48475218732027243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/conversation-with-cadence.html' title='A conversation with Cadence'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2122308192721540451</id><published>2011-06-09T17:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T17:24:01.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Would you believe I don't have a single picture from Erin's visit? Or Robyn's graduation. But all of it happened, I swear. I just don't have the pictures to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence enjoyed having Lynne over. She got excited every time we went over to Nana's house and was noticeably disappointed the first day we went over there and Lynne was nowhere to be found. Even then, the next time I suggested going to Nana's house, Cadence excitedly kicked her feet and exclaimed "Lynne! Okay!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan, of course, could have cared less. She followed both older girls around at some moments and completely ignored them the rest. That's Megan for you, though. She'll roll with whatever punches come her way, even the literal ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've both been into &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; lately. With James working late, due to machines being moved again this week, I've been a very grumpy mommy with my hands full. Especially since Cadence has begun skipping her afternoon nap entirely. Naptime, specifically Cadence's naptime, is my break. It's a bonus if Megan sleeps at the same time, but not necessary for me to have a few moments where I feel like I can breathe. Case in point, Cadence's new favorite thing to do is pull the letters off the wall, which involves climbing on top of  her dresser and leaning over (risking a tumble, oy) to take them down. And, more recently, put them back up for me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--h0g0StXo-o/TfFfN-d8BaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/CRqMvsKrrBY/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--h0g0StXo-o/TfFfN-d8BaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/CRqMvsKrrBY/s320/IMG_0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616374904019223970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In other non-kid news, James is flying out to Houston for two weeks this Sunday. They need him to train some new employees in the Houston shop, so they're shipping him out. It's going to be a crazy two weeks without him. We needed a way for him to talk to the girls, so the natural thing to do was to go out and get a new toy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://common4.ziffdavisinternet.com/util_get_image/24/0,1425,i=243987&amp;amp;sz=1,00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 110px;" src="http://common4.ziffdavisinternet.com/util_get_image/24/0,1425,i=243987&amp;amp;sz=1,00.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now he'll be able to Skype with me and the girls regularly during his time off. He's looking forward to the trip. It's basically all expenses paid, as business trips generally are, so he can just kick his feet up and relax and enjoy himself when he's not working, play games when we're too busy, and watch Netflix if the games can't hold his attention. I'm actually kind of jealous, come to think of it. I wouldn't mind a weekend away from mommy-hood, as much as I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, it's been a semi-stressful few days around here. Hopefully within a week we'll have some details and news that ease up the whole stress level for me. I've got a lot of "what ifs" going on in my head, but we're told to expect answers soon, so... let's just hope I make it that long!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-2122308192721540451?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2122308192721540451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/would-you-believe-i-dont-have-single.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2122308192721540451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2122308192721540451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/would-you-believe-i-dont-have-single.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--h0g0StXo-o/TfFfN-d8BaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/CRqMvsKrrBY/s72-c/IMG_0033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-945520793584733700</id><published>2011-06-03T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T11:48:03.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few quick stats</title><content type='html'>Megan had her 18-month well-child check-up. She's 18 1/2 months, but we put it off so she could get her last bit of infant immunizations while we were there. For now, she's all caught up until the round right before she starts school. So her next doctor's appointment &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; be needle free. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, she's plumped up nicely and the doctor is quite happy with her growth. In fact, he took the "poor weight gain" right off of her file. I'm pleased. Every time I check her online records I glare at that listed under "ongoing medical conditions". Anemia I can accept, because the blood test results are quite clear. But to have a doctor, that'd never seen Megan before, tell me my daughter's weight gain was poor based on a chart (because we all know how ac&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;curate charts are in the medical community) and brush off me pointing out her sister followed the same pattern as unimportant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if she'd be happy with Megan's weight gain now or if the other doctor would still be frowning over the fact that she's not in the same percentile she was a year ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter. She's plumped up nicely enough to satisfy the doctor I've always liked. Good enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, yes, but stats. Megan at 18 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Height:&lt;/span&gt; 31.5" (50th percentile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weight:&lt;/span&gt; 20.5lbs (just under 5th percentile)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For comparison, as always, Megan at 15 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Height:&lt;/span&gt; 30.5" (50th percent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weight: &lt;/span&gt;18.5 lbs (pretty far below 5th percent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's growing just right. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ETA: Just got her blood results online. Using my limited knowledge of what these blood results mean, it seems she is officially no longer anemic! The doctor should call to confirm and give us the lead blood test results, but I think she's now officially in perfect health on their records.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-945520793584733700?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/945520793584733700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/few-quick-stats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/945520793584733700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/945520793584733700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/few-quick-stats.html' title='A few quick stats'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6316171701737197629</id><published>2011-06-02T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T10:30:10.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day</title><content type='html'>We love taking advantage of Daddy's days off! Memorial Day was no exception, though we didn't do anything super crazy. Even though it was a holiday, we risked Hart Park. Sure enough, it was pretty crowded, but we still had some luck in finding a shady table to sit at to enjoy our lunch. We didn't get to play as much as we'd hoped. The girls didn't like the generic lunchables (neither did we, ew!) and when we went to toss bread at the ducks, some grandparents with a herd of about 5 grandkids showed up at the same time. Rather than compete over ducks and/or have our toddlers swarmed by older kids, we chose to just head over to Nana's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4agJ9ATc-NU/TefBdJIrj_I/AAAAAAAAAls/zxevbaiWq-s/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4agJ9ATc-NU/TefBdJIrj_I/AAAAAAAAAls/zxevbaiWq-s/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613668166953308146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At Nana's house, of course, we just kicked our feet up and let the girls run wild. Megan spent most of the time outside sitting on mine or Nana's lap and playing with the flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3sOoOcrt8Fg/TefA1ApB-tI/AAAAAAAAAlk/H5T6EkybkDg/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3sOoOcrt8Fg/TefA1ApB-tI/AAAAAAAAAlk/H5T6EkybkDg/s320/IMG_0022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613667477478308562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes she would run out to join Cadence and Daddy on the lawn. Cadence spent the whole time running circles and going down the slide. James kept a close eye on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sGk0lHkgHAA/TefA0mtcpHI/AAAAAAAAAlc/sFukiQ5oYA0/s1600/IMG_0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sGk0lHkgHAA/TefA0mtcpHI/AAAAAAAAAlc/sFukiQ5oYA0/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613667470517511282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QpkoOCBQCZo/TefA0T1oNJI/AAAAAAAAAlU/DbhErjk_fco/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QpkoOCBQCZo/TefA0T1oNJI/AAAAAAAAAlU/DbhErjk_fco/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613667465451549842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence loved the new swing in Nana's front yard. Megan loved to come up and push her in the swing, but for the most part, Cadence just swung on her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xbXVc2j0Fw/TefAz2YKfAI/AAAAAAAAAlM/4NYmV876lic/s1600/IMG_0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xbXVc2j0Fw/TefAz2YKfAI/AAAAAAAAAlM/4NYmV876lic/s320/IMG_0031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613667457543339010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d0jp-M-7EOE/TefAzkDMQMI/AAAAAAAAAlE/LeZGDjCBkho/s1600/IMG_0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d0jp-M-7EOE/TefAzkDMQMI/AAAAAAAAAlE/LeZGDjCBkho/s320/IMG_0032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613667452623536322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the end of the day, we just had a quiet dinner at home and then we were invaded when Aunt Erin showed up with Lynne and Lucas. The four toddlers caused chaos and none of them were ready to go to bed when we finally dubbed it bedtime. In fact, one curly-haired toddler got in trouble for the first time in her toddler bed ever for getting out to fetch toys. Granted, she was attempting to give them to her youngest cousin to keep him entertained half the time, but... They did eventually fall asleep, but then they were all awake at 6 the next morning. Gah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, but before I go, I must show off my lovely new purse. I was so excited to find it waiting in the mail yesterday. It's a gorgeous handmade set I won from a giveaway. I was ecstatic when I learned I'd won it, because of all the giveaways I entered that day, this was one of my favorites. James transferred all the contents of my purse over to the new one while I drove. I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://amkreations.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 260px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gtzucn1zh6c/TdQIadQrruI/AAAAAAAACxY/_9nZtln0z2U/s1600/Giveaway+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613675220874471650" 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/1003229334638179054-6316171701737197629?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6316171701737197629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/memorial-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6316171701737197629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6316171701737197629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/06/memorial-day.html' title='Memorial Day'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4agJ9ATc-NU/TefBdJIrj_I/AAAAAAAAAls/zxevbaiWq-s/s72-c/IMG_0019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3767693222116674556</id><published>2011-05-26T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T21:44:17.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why craigslist sometimes rocks</title><content type='html'>I always thought this $20 find was my favorite craigslist find. I found it just as the girls were outgrowing their dresser and I was so glad to find have enough room for all their stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_29PYCeZtCcE/TBWomeKz0qI/AAAAAAAAAuI/wv1QuWNdYtQ/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_29PYCeZtCcE/TBWomeKz0qI/AAAAAAAAAuI/wv1QuWNdYtQ/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But today's find trumps it all. We've been having issues with dinner time. Megan, even in a booster seat, could barely see what she was eating and she'd make a huge mess doing it. And her making a mess meant her chair was getting disgusting, despite my best attempts at cleaning up after her. We were looking into replacing it. At the same time, Cadence had to sit on her knees and since she wasn't comfortable would lose interest in eating very easily. While randomly browsing craigslist, I found two highchairs for sale for $20. Now both girls can sit comfortably at the table and have their feet dangling (they both loved swinging their feet while they eat, enjoying the novelty of it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sHxUgtQ0HgU/Td8qMnBE5WI/AAAAAAAAAk8/pV_Wuqq4W_g/s1600/IMG_0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sHxUgtQ0HgU/Td8qMnBE5WI/AAAAAAAAAk8/pV_Wuqq4W_g/s320/IMG_0018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611250056847222114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't think it was just coincidence that both girls gobbled up dinner and smiled the entire time. I'll have to get a picture of Cadence's new dinner trick. James taught her to put her fingers on either side of her mouth and wag her tongue. It's cute, especially when she's coughing with her mouth held open like that. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3767693222116674556?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3767693222116674556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/why-craigslist-sometimes-rocks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3767693222116674556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3767693222116674556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/why-craigslist-sometimes-rocks.html' title='Why craigslist sometimes rocks'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_29PYCeZtCcE/TBWomeKz0qI/AAAAAAAAAuI/wv1QuWNdYtQ/s72-c/IMG_0015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1103346794093738756</id><published>2011-05-26T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T18:50:57.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduation 2011</title><content type='html'>That's right. We're doing it again! This time next week, there'll be these four ragamuffings running wild. Watch out, Bakersfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TxqNrgJfrJE/Td8Bcqwwy1I/AAAAAAAAAk0/OXavbuRn2fw/s1600/IMG_0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TxqNrgJfrJE/Td8Bcqwwy1I/AAAAAAAAAk0/OXavbuRn2fw/s320/IMG_0005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611205252753705810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aunt Robyn's graduating next week, so Erin's coming into town and bring her two kiddos with her. Robyn's not the only one graduating, though. Uncle John is graduating Wednesday night. We'll be missing that one, but James will be able to go. He got time off of work just so he could make it. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than graduation, there's no official plans in the works, but I'm thinking we need a few trips to the apartment's pool and at least one visit to the spray park. I need to make sure the girls both have bathing suits that fit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1103346794093738756?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1103346794093738756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/thats-right.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1103346794093738756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1103346794093738756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/thats-right.html' title='Graduation 2011'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TxqNrgJfrJE/Td8Bcqwwy1I/AAAAAAAAAk0/OXavbuRn2fw/s72-c/IMG_0005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3060950926191248113</id><published>2011-05-20T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T23:30:13.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiet days</title><content type='html'>It's been a quiet few weeks... at least as far as "things going on" is concerned. Noise-level... yeah, not so quiet. But, in my effort to blog at least semi-frequently for those people that use this blog as a way of keeping up with grandkids, great-grandkids, cousins, nieces, etc.... Here are some pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9TxwlAkwag/TddAjAmR1DI/AAAAAAAAAkk/6p9mkmcr1KE/s1600/IMG_0011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9TxwlAkwag/TddAjAmR1DI/AAAAAAAAAkk/6p9mkmcr1KE/s320/IMG_0011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609022831113393202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m5rkczPf-kU/TddAieoL13I/AAAAAAAAAkc/YKpSknxXzEM/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m5rkczPf-kU/TddAieoL13I/AAAAAAAAAkc/YKpSknxXzEM/s320/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609022821994583922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXeB3h7ZzjE/TddAh1qAlAI/AAAAAAAAAkU/sRdxWMq1Wb4/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXeB3h7ZzjE/TddAh1qAlAI/AAAAAAAAAkU/sRdxWMq1Wb4/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609022810996380674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QSyhtFBYLKU/TddAhQUdm3I/AAAAAAAAAkM/lK0HF-kUihs/s1600/IMG_0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QSyhtFBYLKU/TddAhQUdm3I/AAAAAAAAAkM/lK0HF-kUihs/s320/IMG_0010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609022800973896562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yeah, they're getting too big. Cadence is getting so close to giving up her afternoon nap, and some days she pulls it off successfully, despite my best attempts to get her to settle down for a nap at what I deem a decent hour. Other days, around dinner time she sits down for "just a minute" and the next thing I know I'm trying to find where Megan hid my camera so I can snap a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, nothing new going on in life. We had missionaries over for dinner tonight. That's always a fun time. It's nice to sit back and watch the four of them unwinding on our couch and joking around with each other. Plus, I get lots of compliments on my cooking. Yay, ego boost!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chatted with my dad on the phone tonight and now I'm thinking about a dozen little trips I want to do with the girls. Like, I'd love to return to the science museum. And I definitely want to make a trip down to the Long Beach Aquarium. And James and I are eager to take the girls down to the beach one day as well. Maybe we should just save up for a few paychecks and then take one long weekend away. Anyone got some coupons for the aquarium (since the beach and the museum are free, lol)?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3060950926191248113?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3060950926191248113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/quiet-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3060950926191248113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3060950926191248113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/quiet-days.html' title='Quiet days'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9TxwlAkwag/TddAjAmR1DI/AAAAAAAAAkk/6p9mkmcr1KE/s72-c/IMG_0011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3625578914220070721</id><published>2011-05-12T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:55:24.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where did my babies go?</title><content type='html'>Most mornings, as soon as I open the room to their door, Cadence rushes out and Megan fusses to be picked up and carried out to the couch. This morning, though, Megan was sleeping in and Cadence was playing with her legos. So, what's a mom to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, I sat next to her and began playing too. She was talking up a storm as she played "hmm, green one right.... here" and "oh no, be careful" and she'd pretend to wobble every time her lego tower did. Every time the tower did fall over (despite my best attempts to counter balance her awkward building choices), she'd cover her mouth and get a huge wide-eyed look and say: "Oh, no, she fall down!" She'd also babble at me as we worked. She told me Megan was still sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taz came over and chatted with us. Cadence did really well with just petting her instead of being mean, which I praised over and over again. Then she rubbed her face against Taz's, giggled and said she had "pet Taz with face". There were a few more random syllables thrown in there, of course, but the words I recognized were those in that order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan woke up shortly after that. I had scampered off to get dressed for the day and when I came back, Cadence was asking Megan if she wanted to get up and Megan clearly said "no" and burrowed deeper into her blankets. When she saw me, she sat up and asked "up?" So we sat by her bed. She pointed to the Dora book at my feet and asked "book?" so I picked it up and we began to go through it. She pointed to the turtles and named them. She pointed to Dora and named her. She pointed to the babies and named them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence came and offered a trade. A stack of legos for the book, which Megan happily accepted and began disassembling and reassembling them as Cadence sat by both of us and began reading the book to me. I was fascinated. I've read the book to her a few times, including once last night. She opened to the first page and repeated the typical opening to Dora show ("Hi, I'm Dora!" "And I'm Boots!"). She continued to name basic facts for most of the pages. She recognized the Troll Bridge and the Troll. She discussed Map. She pointed out Swiper and pointed to the "tenpoes" (tent poles) he was attempting to swipe. She named off "Mami and Papi" and pointed to the marshmallows they were roasting and said "Yummy!" Her recall is amazing. She's also really beginning to relate to the movies and books. Just yesterday she was watching Toy Story (a favorite, though calling it simply a "favorite" may be selling it short, lol) and when Buzz broke his arm off she exclaimed "oh, no, Buzz broke his arm" very clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as we wandered out into the living room, Megan asked for "frog", which is our normal routine. As I was emptying the dishwasher, she wandered in and asked for "juice" and bounced when I pulled down the "cereal" and happily repeated the word over and over, then ran back to the couch to wait when I told her to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the time since I sat down to rush through this entry (I have a kitchen needing cleaning this morning and I'd rather get it done as soon as possible), Cadence came up to me with two cups and informed me she had "two cups, one water, one juice" then scampered off to enjoy the exciting moment. Megan carried her cup and bowl over to me, set them both on the desk beside me then held up her arms and asked "Up?" and spent the rest of my typing exercise in my lap talking to her sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, seriously... when did I suddenly become the mom of two toddlers? And when did they get so smart?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3625578914220070721?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3625578914220070721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/where-did-my-babies-go.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3625578914220070721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3625578914220070721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/where-did-my-babies-go.html' title='Where did my babies go?'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3186300639965816815</id><published>2011-05-08T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T17:04:46.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First day of nursery</title><content type='html'>At the suggestion of the nursery leader, we dropped Megan off at nursery this week. The original plan was just for a trial period. James vowed to check in on her once he was done teaching his Sunday School class, and possibly take her with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we walked both girls down to the nursery room. Megan fussed a bit when I put her down and she began to suspect I'd be leaving her behind. Once we got her sitting at the round table with all the other kids, James and I were able to slip out and we went to our respective places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the first time I've sat through sharing time without her, James frequently takes her to his classes with him for the day, but her absence was crazy obvious to me today. Every time I caught movement at the primary door I'd turn and half-hope it would be a nursery leader with my little girl in her arms because it wasn't going well. The only time they did come in the room was to bring Cadence to me for a potty run. I took the time to ask the leader how Megan was doing and was told she was doing just fine. Cadence, apparently, was being a very good big sister and watching out for Megan the whole time they were playing together (aww!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James checked on her after his class and again halfway through his third hour class, but both times she was perfectly content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's official. Both my girls are in nursery. I now have my hands free for almost two whole hours every single Sunday. No more wrestling with Megan while trying to teach my lesson, no more wandering the halls during sharing time because I can't get her to behave in the primary room. The girls in my class were almost as sad as I was at the lack of a distraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yet another lesson in the true meaning of "bittersweet".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3186300639965816815?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3186300639965816815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/first-day-of-nursery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3186300639965816815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3186300639965816815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/first-day-of-nursery.html' title='First day of nursery'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-907259489107634146</id><published>2011-05-07T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T21:01:11.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Nana's Day, 2011</title><content type='html'>Working hard, as she's wont to do, my mom's backyard has taken a backseat on the "to do" list. It's one of those things she'd really like to get done, but when prioritizing, it just doesn't seem to make it to the top of the list. So for Mother's Day, James, Seth, Chad, Robyn, two missionaries and I set about making it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; priority. It was a few hours of trimming rose bushes, pulling weeds, mowing grass, etc... but the end results were phenomenal. There is still a LOT to do. It's a good-sized yard and requires a fair bit of upkeep, but it looks worlds better. Sometime next month, I intend to be back in that yard getting the next stage finished. Hopefully we can get the whole thing put together and get it back to the point that general upkeep is all the yard requires to look fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Porch Before:&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/-KgtoMGHitz0/TcYOfbqGwoI/AAAAAAAAAkE/93DGIyVZcA0/s1600/IMG_0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KgtoMGHitz0/TcYOfbqGwoI/AAAAAAAAAkE/93DGIyVZcA0/s320/IMG_0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604182719472255618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porch After:&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/-BGinIG9UY6c/TcYOe25J0SI/AAAAAAAAAj8/OA_uJs3xse0/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BGinIG9UY6c/TcYOe25J0SI/AAAAAAAAAj8/OA_uJs3xse0/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604182709603258658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main Yard Before:&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/-O0vA3XzlUtQ/TcYOenZESXI/AAAAAAAAAj0/8Lgpt5lCYXQ/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O0vA3XzlUtQ/TcYOenZESXI/AAAAAAAAAj0/8Lgpt5lCYXQ/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604182705442146674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main Yard After:&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/-xDDQtqP-Uo8/TcYOeF-PRyI/AAAAAAAAAjs/P1poEpPX5sg/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xDDQtqP-Uo8/TcYOeF-PRyI/AAAAAAAAAjs/P1poEpPX5sg/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604182696471250722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, the whole reason Nana wants the backyard looking fabulous is so it's clean and tidy enough for moments like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lkLNSmjV8KA/TcYOdwOqo0I/AAAAAAAAAjk/sbiDM5EuFlc/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lkLNSmjV8KA/TcYOdwOqo0I/AAAAAAAAAjk/sbiDM5EuFlc/s320/IMG_0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604182690634572610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We finished off the day with some tasty barbecued ribs, beans, and corn on the cob (bought fresh from the farmer's market this morning). It was a busy day, but totally worth it. Oh, and spending all morning out in the sun has faded me hair a full two shades of blond lighter. Pretty sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and we picked up my Mother's Day present/James's Father's Day present, so expect me to be totally distracted for the next week or two (again):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://windowskeys.com/54-95-large/dragon-age-2-download-key.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://windowskeys.com/54-95-large/dragon-age-2-download-key.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://toomuchgaming.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/12990738441080p-dragon-age-2-hd-wallpaper-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy mother's day, to the best mom out there (And happy Nana's day as well). :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-907259489107634146?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/907259489107634146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-nanas-day-2011.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/907259489107634146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/907259489107634146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-nanas-day-2011.html' title='Happy Nana&apos;s Day, 2011'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KgtoMGHitz0/TcYOfbqGwoI/AAAAAAAAAkE/93DGIyVZcA0/s72-c/IMG_0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7739667635611865129</id><published>2011-04-24T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T21:44:26.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Afternoon</title><content type='html'>Easter ham with the fam. A nice way to end the day. (Yay, rhyming). Not  having to cook, but still having a tasty meal? Score! Actually, I did  bake a cheesecake. Mmm, yummy. My family dyed eggs. James and I had  planned to do so, but the day got away from us yesterday, so we never  got around to it. Shortly after we got there, Seth and Robyn "hid" them  in the front yard. Then armed with a grocery bag and a toy bucket, the  girls went on their very first egg hunt. For first-timers, they got the concept down really well.&lt;br /&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/-IkBTFxkcXaM/TbT7OxzUSxI/AAAAAAAAAjM/xkEd-DhLcRE/s1600/IMG_0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IkBTFxkcXaM/TbT7OxzUSxI/AAAAAAAAAjM/xkEd-DhLcRE/s320/IMG_0063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599376468033686290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby had to help:&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/-fseyvyt3RAc/TbT7OtGjMGI/AAAAAAAAAjE/UlAFCqj3gzY/s1600/IMG_0066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fseyvyt3RAc/TbT7OtGjMGI/AAAAAAAAAjE/UlAFCqj3gzY/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599376466772176994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan really got into it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6sDL_SAN22Y/TbT7OVtu4-I/AAAAAAAAAi8/Sn9WXmMh2oE/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6sDL_SAN22Y/TbT7OVtu4-I/AAAAAAAAAi8/Sn9WXmMh2oE/s320/IMG_0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599376460494070754" 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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fYlAvqBnWOs/TbT6soRoRvI/AAAAAAAAAi0/8-QEp2D3VLE/s1600/IMG_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fYlAvqBnWOs/TbT6soRoRvI/AAAAAAAAAi0/8-QEp2D3VLE/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599375881360918258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence easily found the larger number of eggs (though Grandpa would point out ones whenever she couldn't find any):&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/-4tvOEL-pnt0/TbT6sVsZZGI/AAAAAAAAAis/QhvFOcspGlY/s1600/IMG_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4tvOEL-pnt0/TbT6sVsZZGI/AAAAAAAAAis/QhvFOcspGlY/s320/IMG_0068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599375876372915298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casualties of war. Cadence was so excited to go after one across the yard she didn't see the one right in front of her:&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/-e1jyRN8kMd0/TbT6rxf6LSI/AAAAAAAAAik/_j_pIYBloF8/s1600/IMG_0069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e1jyRN8kMd0/TbT6rxf6LSI/AAAAAAAAAik/_j_pIYBloF8/s320/IMG_0069.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599375866656861474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Showing off her booty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zA-okWTcLAk/TbT6rnlTaRI/AAAAAAAAAic/BXNecV8cX6g/s1600/IMG_0071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zA-okWTcLAk/TbT6rnlTaRI/AAAAAAAAAic/BXNecV8cX6g/s320/IMG_0071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599375863995132178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKLKoMfiPTA/TbT6rGVgSPI/AAAAAAAAAiU/pQsomIDW8QE/s1600/IMG_0072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WKLKoMfiPTA/TbT6rGVgSPI/AAAAAAAAAiU/pQsomIDW8QE/s320/IMG_0072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599375855070497010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we attempted to take away the hard-boiled eggs, Cadence threw a fit. Since the plastic eggs had jellybeans inside, she wasn't willing to part with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; eggs. Once Nana showed her what was inside the shell of the non-plastic ones, she wasn't so interested and contented herself with gobbling up jellybeans. The Easter eggs were quickly whipped up into hard-boiled eggs and served alongside the ham and potatoes. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7739667635611865129?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7739667635611865129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-afternoon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7739667635611865129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7739667635611865129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-afternoon.html' title='Easter Afternoon'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IkBTFxkcXaM/TbT7OxzUSxI/AAAAAAAAAjM/xkEd-DhLcRE/s72-c/IMG_0063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5868827178561240626</id><published>2011-04-24T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T22:00:05.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Morning</title><content type='html'>I was not up until 2am putting the finishing touches on the last Easter dress. I was only up until 11, so :-P. And actually, I was only up that late because I didn't start on the finishing touches until after 9 (and had minor issues halfway through, so had to start over on one part). At last, they were finished and we were able to lay them out next to their Easter baskets for a nice photo finish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2sRYHFf-SXA/TbSMmz6h9dI/AAAAAAAAAiE/WxFF8ye2MjA/s1600/IMG_0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2sRYHFf-SXA/TbSMmz6h9dI/AAAAAAAAAiE/WxFF8ye2MjA/s320/IMG_0045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599254835126990290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h5dTcruf_R0/TbSMmaUSpvI/AAAAAAAAAh8/DokIzzFsngM/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h5dTcruf_R0/TbSMmaUSpvI/AAAAAAAAAh8/DokIzzFsngM/s320/IMG_0046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599254828255717106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was in the kitchen turning the oven on when James let the girls out of  their bedroom this morning. Cadence zeroed in on the new stuff on the  couch and was happily investigating as I turned the corner. No coaxing  needed. As soon as they realized there was chocolate in the foil-wrapped  eggs, they lost all interest in everything else. Though Cadence has  since become very possessive of her new roaring dinosaur flashlight and  Megan added car sound effects to the lesson in elder's quorum thanks to  her new car keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5_scwcDEss/TbSMmVIGYhI/AAAAAAAAAh0/esw9gWU6rVg/s1600/IMG_0047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c5_scwcDEss/TbSMmVIGYhI/AAAAAAAAAh0/esw9gWU6rVg/s320/IMG_0047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599254826862404114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-13JgSW12vdY/TbSMl_Lty7I/AAAAAAAAAhs/3J0ATbiqswM/s1600/IMG_0051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-13JgSW12vdY/TbSMl_Lty7I/AAAAAAAAAhs/3J0ATbiqswM/s320/IMG_0051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599254820971989938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Hl7SYcgBX0/TbSLzOhtxkI/AAAAAAAAAhE/cYgFJsBvUGc/s1600/IMG_0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Hl7SYcgBX0/TbSLzOhtxkI/AAAAAAAAAhE/cYgFJsBvUGc/s320/IMG_0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599253948917466690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We enjoyed cinnamon rolls and the girls got into a bath (since we got  home late and I didn't get around to it last night). Then they got all  dolled up in their new dresses and new shoes and new hair clips. I  grabbed my camera and attempted to get pictures of the dresses on the  nice lawn outside the church building. In my head I envisioned adorable  pictures of Cadence's cute grin and Megan's wrinkle-nosed smile. Alas,  things did not go as I had hoped, but my kids are cute anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JCCZHprDXo4/TbSMnBzQJaI/AAAAAAAAAiM/c9odiUXf2Yw/s1600/IMG_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JCCZHprDXo4/TbSMnBzQJaI/AAAAAAAAAiM/c9odiUXf2Yw/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599254838854559138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JMODlNuOjyQ/TbSL0LTryFI/AAAAAAAAAhk/lTysssh3Yrk/s1600/IMG_0062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JMODlNuOjyQ/TbSL0LTryFI/AAAAAAAAAhk/lTysssh3Yrk/s320/IMG_0062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599253965233178706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXN_Lap8crw/TbSLzxqzaCI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Mwcy5nQoI7Y/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bXN_Lap8crw/TbSLzxqzaCI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Mwcy5nQoI7Y/s320/IMG_0060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599253958350825506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m83xHx6bj9s/TbSLzu61ZcI/AAAAAAAAAhU/9svkr6pqNuo/s1600/IMG_0058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m83xHx6bj9s/TbSLzu61ZcI/AAAAAAAAAhU/9svkr6pqNuo/s320/IMG_0058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599253957612758466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PguE4o-NSUo/TbT_y2PjioI/AAAAAAAAAjU/Ny-g0vhyxhw/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PguE4o-NSUo/TbT_y2PjioI/AAAAAAAAAjU/Ny-g0vhyxhw/s320/IMG_0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599381485747669634" 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/1003229334638179054-5868827178561240626?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5868827178561240626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-morning.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5868827178561240626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5868827178561240626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-morning.html' title='Easter Morning'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2sRYHFf-SXA/TbSMmz6h9dI/AAAAAAAAAiE/WxFF8ye2MjA/s72-c/IMG_0045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3160312553947587956</id><published>2011-04-17T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T07:46:54.792-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter and lunch (not related)</title><content type='html'>So, I have Megan's Easter dress almost completed (zipper and sash are all that's left). I had planned to get as much done on Cadence's dress last weekend, but I discovered a new video game and immediately began slacking. So then I intended to buckle down and just get it done this weekend, but at the last minute, James's work needed him in all weekend (which is great, straight over time, yay) and I can't sew with both girls moving around. Therefore, I am behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, in all reality, it doesn't take a lot of time. I'll just probably be up until 2am Sunday morning sewing zippers in. And if I don't stop playing this video game, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; be up until 2am Sunday morning sewing zippers in. Must.... focus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited for Easter. I get to show off home-made dresses (because shrugging your shoulders and casually saying "Oh, I made it...", as if it were nothing special, when people ask where you got those adorable dresses is totally the main reason to make your kids' clothes). Plus, James and I had a long chat with the Easter bunny on Friday and I'm totally psyched about what he's bringing her for Easter. It is the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;perfect&lt;/span&gt; gift right now. It combines four of her favorite things into one toy. Megan's is a keeper too. :-) The Easter bunny is under strict instructions to keep it simple. One toy and a few treats. We don't want to distract from the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; reason for Easter, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, we did get egg dye. Cadence will probably lose interested after the first two come out a different color, but oh well. Start traditions while they're young, right? And take lots of pictures for those one or two that she is interested in and claim she loved every moment of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, off I go. Got two girls to get dolled up for church and I've gotta check out how long this Spanish rice is going to take to cook. Before he knew he'd be working, James invited the missionaries over for lunch today (They gave him the calendar last week to make sure he signed us up for a dinner night, but he didn't realize that and handed it off without signing us up. I guess the missionaries came up all disappointed, so he extended the invitation then. I just hope they remember!) Seth, who graciously agreed to taking over James's class last minute when we realized James would have to work through church, will also be coming over to be our 18+ male so they can still come over today. Hoping James doesn't have to work too long, though, and that he'll be home waiting for us when we get home from church. It all depends on how long it takes to pull the machine apart and get it ready for it's trip to Houston.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3160312553947587956?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3160312553947587956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-and-lunch-not-related.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3160312553947587956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3160312553947587956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-and-lunch-not-related.html' title='Easter and lunch (not related)'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-922090184381157049</id><published>2011-04-07T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T20:25:39.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A "Picture" of my Day</title><content type='html'>There's a new "tab" near the top of this page. After enjoying the 30 Day Picture challenge, some friends of mine suggested a new fun idea: Document your day with your camera and then post all the pictures to get a "picture" of our day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;a href="http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/p/my-day-in-pictures.html"&gt;here's mine&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps a tad more eventful than a day that I don't have the van, but it's pretty typical for a day that I do have access to a car. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-922090184381157049?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/922090184381157049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/picture-of-my-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/922090184381157049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/922090184381157049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/picture-of-my-day.html' title='A &quot;Picture&quot; of my Day'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1442490119337260584</id><published>2011-04-07T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T13:10:08.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A random check-up</title><content type='html'>Since I hadn't heard any real definitive news from Megan's doctor about her iron levels and I was still a tad curious about her weight gain, I took her in for a random check-up. We had just switched her over to the same pediatrician as Cadence, so it was also a chance for him to get to meet her and her to meet him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm pleased to announce that Megan has put on a full pound in the past 6 weeks (19lbs 6oz, 31.9"). The doctor said it was good weight gain, but told me he didn't have the same concerns the previous doctor did over her weight. He pointed at her most recent weights on the growth chart and showed me that even though for the first 6 months she was between the 25th-50th percentile lines for weight, from 9 months on, though she was below the 5th percentile line, she was pretty consistent as to how far below it she was. He said that this was probably the growth curve she'll continue to grow along and that as long as she continues to stay on it, he's not concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice feeling. I was not super concerned about Megan's weight when the other doctor gave me a hard time about it, her concerns were still tucked away in the back of my mind and I wondered if I was right in now worrying. So, it was nice to have a doctor that specializes in kids telling me everything really was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for her iron levels, he pulled them up and showed me how they'd improved (I'd already seen the numbers, but all I could interpret from that was that she was still technically anemic). Then he told me her anemia was mild at best and that the one point she'd gained was what was expected within a month. So we were right on track. He said to continue giving her the drops until her appointment in June, he'd retest then and call me with the results and instructions as to whether to continue the drops or not. So, I was happy to know the drops were doing what they needed to and I didn't need to stress over completely overhauling her diet to get more iron in her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a good appointment. I'm glad I took her in, even though the doctor said coming in for the iron levels wasn't necessary, but he was glad that we got her weighed so he could strike "poor weight gain" off of her records for me. Now, according to her medical records, other than some mild (but improving!) anemia, she's all healthy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1442490119337260584?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1442490119337260584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/random-check-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1442490119337260584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1442490119337260584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/random-check-up.html' title='A random check-up'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5034781857990976526</id><published>2011-04-01T11:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T11:10:58.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What could it be?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8U4htKwvua0/TZYU2ZZYtaI/AAAAAAAAAeo/ElZO-bSOmTQ/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8U4htKwvua0/TZYU2ZZYtaI/AAAAAAAAAeo/ElZO-bSOmTQ/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590678912189904290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tune in later this month (around Easter Sunday or so) to find out! Time to see if I inherited that sewing gene, or if my children are doomed to store-bought clothes for their entire childhood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5034781857990976526?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5034781857990976526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-could-it-be.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5034781857990976526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5034781857990976526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-could-it-be.html' title='What could it be?'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8U4htKwvua0/TZYU2ZZYtaI/AAAAAAAAAeo/ElZO-bSOmTQ/s72-c/IMG_0003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5273983028612997628</id><published>2011-03-28T12:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T14:20:25.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could they be any cuter?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cWa-LMgU-Zg/TZDml2WFyII/AAAAAAAAAco/CHHdMTgboNg/s1600/IMG_0016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cWa-LMgU-Zg/TZDml2WFyII/AAAAAAAAAco/CHHdMTgboNg/s320/IMG_0016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589220675484502146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Cadence and Megan have gone through social growth spurts. James and I have had several moments of looking at each other in shock and then busting up laughing. And I've had several moments of wanting to call him up and tell him yet another story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, today, I told the girls to get on the couch for quiet time (which is really naptime, but we call it quiet time so Cadence doesn't realized I'm tricking her into taking a nap). Cadence immediately gathered up her blanket and Megan's blanket and went to rearrange the pillows on the couch. I have one pillow for each of them that is set on either end, but James tends to pile them together once he's home. Taz was laying on one and Cadence was getting quite upset that she couldn't move it. So I suggested she move Taz. She then picked Taz up, placed her on the floor, moved the pillow and patted the couch as she told Megan "get on the couch, Megan". Then she handed Megan her blanket, grabbed hers, and moved to her side of the couch to wait for the movie to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan's learning a dozen new words a day and she's getting very vocal about what she knows. Today I heard her meowing and when I looked she had opened up one of the books to the page with the cat on it and was pointing to the picture as she meowed. Yesterday, she also showed off her knowledge of eyes, ears, nose and mouth to her Grandpa. She would also point to his when asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Robyn's birthday was yesterday (she's 18!). Saturday, we went to the store to pick up her birthday present and let Cadence pick most of it out. I'd pick which display we'd look at and Cadence would pick the exact item. She picked the perfect pair of earrings for Robyn, and a set of bracelets, and insisted on the purple mickey mouse socks. She even picked out the chocolate and the bag. She knew it was for Aunt Robyn. It was too cute when James asked if we should get Aunt Robyn chocolate and Cadence responded "Okay, chocolate, Robyn". When he suggested chips, she shook her head and said "no, chocolate". About ten minutes later, when James again suggested chips she looked at him and said again: "No, chocolate, Robyn" and then went to the display with the chocolate and picked out a pack of Milky Ways to add to the gift bag (that she'd also picked out). When we went to pay, she insisted the cashier "give it back" and we had to dig out the bag and all the presents to give back to Cadence so she could carry it. She refused to let Aunt Robyn's present out of her care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan's just... adorable. I have no anecdotes off the top of my head. She's just so stinking cute. Even when she's mad and throwing a fit, she's so adorable it's a battle to keep from busting up laughing. She's got a temper, too. Not quite as volatile as her sister's, but she's just as stubborn. More so in some ways. She's so smart. It's scary how smart they are at this age. It seems every day she has a dozen new words to use. I was stunned when I pulled out a banana for their breakfast and she jumped up and down in her seat and said "nana!" It's not just words, either. She understands so much more and is getting so good at communicating with her gestures. I almost have to remember to encourage her to use words, because I usually understand exactly what she wants from her gestures. She's very clear in what she wants (and doesn't want).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two of them have fought a bit more, now that they're both showing their stubborn sides and now that they both "want" something at the same time. We've been smoothing it over, mostly working on Cadence not taking things from Megan and telling Megan "no" when she decides she wants whatever Cadence has. Honestly, that problem isn't as bad as it was a few weeks ago, so I think it's working. *knock on wood*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5273983028612997628?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5273983028612997628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/could-they-be-any-cuter.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5273983028612997628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5273983028612997628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/could-they-be-any-cuter.html' title='Could they be any cuter?'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cWa-LMgU-Zg/TZDml2WFyII/AAAAAAAAAco/CHHdMTgboNg/s72-c/IMG_0016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8341852057208801613</id><published>2011-03-22T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T20:39:01.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Megan's talking</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/-cR4ImPB3hv0/TYloe9soHBI/AAAAAAAAAcg/idxZ3FlUZQA/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cR4ImPB3hv0/TYloe9soHBI/AAAAAAAAAcg/idxZ3FlUZQA/s320/IMG_0014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587111693896915986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Playing in the rain. Even though they were both ice cold, they both shrieked a protest as we dragged them back inside)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Several times I find myself overlooking Megan's milestones. It's not because I just don't notice, I just don't stop and think "hey, that's new and cool".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she is most definitely a toddler to her fingertips. She's begun a bit of a vocabulary explosion. I forgot about this, how quickly they pick up new words. Just today she was eagerly asking for a "duh, duh" in the bath and it took me a moment to realized she had learned the word "duck" at some unknown point, undoubtedly from her sister. Shortly after that, she pointed to the spot between her mouth and her nose and said "nose", which then prompted me pointing to different body parts and saying the word. By the end of her bath she'd learned to point to her eyes, ears, mouth and nose. And as always she knows where her belly is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's also picked up "book", though that one took me a moment as well. And when I handed her a dried out wipe instead (since they like to take them out and scatter them), she turned it over in her hands then wiped at her mouth with it and handed it back to me. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or just sweep her up and cover her sweet face in kisses. Since it was technically bedtime, I refrained from both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She follows directions really well. Though now that she knows the word "no", she often protests a bit. But she doesn't just use the word without meaning. She knows what that word means and if we ask if she wants something or if we offer her something she doesn't want, she'll shake her head and say "no". Her yes is a grunt and a bounce, so we're still working on that word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every night she refuses to settle down for story time. She's either trying to get to the toys and grinning at me when I tell her to come sit back down (she has the cutest "I'm not going to listen to you, come and get me" grin ever), or she's climbing all over me wanting to point to the pictures and give me her made-up word. She meows at cats and repeats everything Cadence says during story time. However, once I say "the end", she promptly stops what she's doing and folds her arms for the bedtime prayer. Once prayer's over she runs over to her bed and waits for me to tuck her in. She rarely stays laying down, but she at least waits for me to spread her blanket over her before she starts her somersaults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has her little routines. For example, she's fine at dinner until I get up and walk past her, at which point she wants down and in my lap. After every meal she has to bring her cup with her, even if the thing's empty. Every night after bath, I get her out first and get her dressed, then leave the towel out while I go get Cadence, and every single time, Megan lays down in the middle of the towel and just grins like a little stinker while Cadence shrieks in protest. First thing in the morning, she demands snuggle time. It doesn't matter whether she was up early, or late, or if we just finished dropping James off. If I don't sit on the couch and cuddle with her for a few minutes she will not leave me be until I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say it over and over again, but I can't believe I ever thought she'd pale in comparison to her high-spirited sister. I love this little girl so much and in so many different ways. I love her for all the things she has in common with her sister and I love her for all the many ways she's different.  I thought I was blessed to have someone as sweet as Cadence, but I'm doubly blessed to have Megan thrown into the mix as well. Triple blessed, even, because watching them together, even with all the screaming and fighting, just melts my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-8341852057208801613?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8341852057208801613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/megans-talking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8341852057208801613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8341852057208801613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/megans-talking.html' title='Megan&apos;s talking'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cR4ImPB3hv0/TYloe9soHBI/AAAAAAAAAcg/idxZ3FlUZQA/s72-c/IMG_0014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5149533223690541405</id><published>2011-03-15T22:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T22:42:44.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The house that dad built</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, James woke up so sore that he actually had to leave work after only being there an hour. I promptly sat down and ordered the memory pad that had been recommended to me when I first began looking into the idea. After two calls to customer service and 3 weeks, it finally arrived last Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls thought the big fluffy thing on top of our bed was awesome, but they quickly lost interest once it was tucked under the sheet and our bed looked the same to them (nevermind the fact that it was now 4 inches taller...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their interest quickly transferred to the box that it came in. James offered to throw it out that night, but I decided we could let them keep it until it fell apart. Saturday, James flipped open the pocketknife that he pretty much always has on hand, and carved out "windows" and a door. The girls were in love and spent the rest of the evening ducking in and out of the door and peeking at us through the windows. It now has it's own place in their room and will probably remain there until it begins to fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll take them outside and let them fingerpaint it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1hB58kOCZs/TYBMT6qQk2I/AAAAAAAAAcY/VqG-fhcz2zg/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1hB58kOCZs/TYBMT6qQk2I/AAAAAAAAAcY/VqG-fhcz2zg/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584547442987144034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2jg8b7Z-EpU/TYBMTc2P01I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/hesxUc6TADo/s1600/IMG_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2jg8b7Z-EpU/TYBMTc2P01I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/hesxUc6TADo/s320/IMG_0007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584547434984362834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3wSmHV0Rpq4/TYBMTD8s4AI/AAAAAAAAAcI/xk7QmFwdCaM/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3wSmHV0Rpq4/TYBMTD8s4AI/AAAAAAAAAcI/xk7QmFwdCaM/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584547428300546050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oJK0CtuiH98/TYBMSj6DDnI/AAAAAAAAAcA/ZtP_IBuxZPE/s1600/IMG_0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oJK0CtuiH98/TYBMSj6DDnI/AAAAAAAAAcA/ZtP_IBuxZPE/s320/IMG_0008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584547419699482226" 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/1003229334638179054-5149533223690541405?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5149533223690541405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/fort-that-dad-built.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5149533223690541405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5149533223690541405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/fort-that-dad-built.html' title='The house that dad built'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1hB58kOCZs/TYBMT6qQk2I/AAAAAAAAAcY/VqG-fhcz2zg/s72-c/IMG_0004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3607282610735368995</id><published>2011-03-05T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T20:39:00.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cadence's Photo Shoot</title><content type='html'>Oh the cuteness! Last year, Cadence was such a pain in the butt to deal with (kind of like how Megan was this year, guess it was an age thing). But this year she was loving the camera and we got a ton of cheesy grins and cuteness. It's a wonder I was able to narrow it down to just one for my wall. In the end, I was only able to choose by considering which one would compliment Megan's the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This picture kind of sums up how the entire shoot went:&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/-zJ9aPFKvA0U/TXMNMBSoUEI/AAAAAAAAAb0/1u1yNG6r6gg/s1600/cadence01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zJ9aPFKvA0U/TXMNMBSoUEI/AAAAAAAAAb0/1u1yNG6r6gg/s320/cadence01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818863398342722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Showing off her pink boots to the photographer:&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/-l6M_lTOdGEc/TXMNL4--7NI/AAAAAAAAAbs/3ejPML-sGWk/s1600/cadence03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l6M_lTOdGEc/TXMNL4--7NI/AAAAAAAAAbs/3ejPML-sGWk/s320/cadence03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818861168454866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They told her to smell the flower, then they had to try to get her to stop:&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/-_RenF7wKXi0/TXMNGYZgv9I/AAAAAAAAAbk/br6GasEyW-0/s1600/cadence02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_RenF7wKXi0/TXMNGYZgv9I/AAAAAAAAAbk/br6GasEyW-0/s320/cadence02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818766522007506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's so CUTE:&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/-YXeikUogWd4/TXMNGGE_BbI/AAAAAAAAAbc/RqXG5aBo5bo/s1600/cadence09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YXeikUogWd4/TXMNGGE_BbI/AAAAAAAAAbc/RqXG5aBo5bo/s320/cadence09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818761604072882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one was a finalist, but her smile seemed off (and she looked entirely too grown up to be going up on my wall this year!):&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/-8mEkAXzJXmA/TXMNGFlwOJI/AAAAAAAAAbU/42MRcb-S1i4/s1600/cadence12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8mEkAXzJXmA/TXMNGFlwOJI/AAAAAAAAAbU/42MRcb-S1i4/s320/cadence12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818761473079442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one was also a finalist and was very nearly the final pick:&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/--i9zHXFtbLg/TXMNFw1IIrI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Zc3_Mdd6Ngc/s1600/cadence04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--i9zHXFtbLg/TXMNFw1IIrI/AAAAAAAAAbM/Zc3_Mdd6Ngc/s320/cadence04.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818755900416690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, this one won:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JywJgdj7yfo/TXMNF1BahoI/AAAAAAAAAbE/uRgCksHVNIo/s1600/cadence08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JywJgdj7yfo/TXMNF1BahoI/AAAAAAAAAbE/uRgCksHVNIo/s320/cadence08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580818757025695362" 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/1003229334638179054-3607282610735368995?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3607282610735368995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/cadences-photo-shoot.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3607282610735368995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3607282610735368995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/cadences-photo-shoot.html' title='Cadence&apos;s Photo Shoot'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zJ9aPFKvA0U/TXMNMBSoUEI/AAAAAAAAAb0/1u1yNG6r6gg/s72-c/cadence01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4579686797809376741</id><published>2011-03-01T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T13:20:52.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Megan's 2011 photo shoot</title><content type='html'>Last time I took pictures, Megan was a gem and Cadence was the one I had to fight with. This time around, it took all my effort to keep a "ready to pose" Cadence out of the camera's view and coax a few smiles from Megan, who wanted nothing more than to snuggle. We got a few pictures, but between her fussiness, the fact that I used my cell phone as a prop, and her hair and it's dozen of cowlicks that refuse to lie flat no matter how much I play with it... Still, I do have more proof that she is one of the sweetest girls alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Close up time:&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/-tU_Et1Fyf18/TW1h1lqNJsI/AAAAAAAAAa8/2YW6iNtHMFs/s1600/megan11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tU_Et1Fyf18/TW1h1lqNJsI/AAAAAAAAAa8/2YW6iNtHMFs/s320/megan11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579223086652008130" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her cowlick is way obvious in this one, lol:&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/-6dGpdSKShes/TW1h1aNvnnI/AAAAAAAAAa0/5uVqm3F1ZhM/s1600/megan02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6dGpdSKShes/TW1h1aNvnnI/AAAAAAAAAa0/5uVqm3F1ZhM/s320/megan02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579223083579842162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another close up, so cute:&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/-fbfaHYUKc24/TW1h1M-9hrI/AAAAAAAAAas/xW02oknzIx4/s1600/megan03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fbfaHYUKc24/TW1h1M-9hrI/AAAAAAAAAas/xW02oknzIx4/s320/megan03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579223080028178098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one I was tempted to buy for my wall:&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/-SVkIapTdpNg/TW1h0mnJARI/AAAAAAAAAak/3k3VFUO9T6g/s1600/megan08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SVkIapTdpNg/TW1h0mnJARI/AAAAAAAAAak/3k3VFUO9T6g/s320/megan08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579223069727719698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one I actually ordered, cell phone and all:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G5-EYutV5gU/TW1h0hGH0PI/AAAAAAAAAac/2MoWND1JDQ0/s1600/megan06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G5-EYutV5gU/TW1h0hGH0PI/AAAAAAAAAac/2MoWND1JDQ0/s320/megan06.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579223068247052530" 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/1003229334638179054-4579686797809376741?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4579686797809376741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/megans-2011-photo-shoot.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4579686797809376741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4579686797809376741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/03/megans-2011-photo-shoot.html' title='Megan&apos;s 2011 photo shoot'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tU_Et1Fyf18/TW1h1lqNJsI/AAAAAAAAAa8/2YW6iNtHMFs/s72-c/megan11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4300340505229951041</id><published>2011-02-28T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T17:47:23.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow day 2011</title><content type='html'>There was no snow in Bakersfield, but there was plenty about 45 minutes away! So Sunday after church we went exploring. We found a snowed-over campground and clambered out. The girls were amused at first. And they thought mommy and daddy tossing snowballs at each other was hilarious, they weren't too keen on that cold stuff touching them, which was unfortunate with how often Cadence and Megan stumbled and used their hands to catch themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left when the crying outweighed the laughing, which didn't take long if we're being honest. Next time... we'll bring gloves. Though I'm not sure how much Cadence will like them. She insisted I keep taking mine off every time she wanted to hold my hand. And can I say: thank goodness I had my awesome new coat to keep me warm (and looking fabulous, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d22A5Db3g4M/TWxKRYK_IkI/AAAAAAAAAaE/t-7v4gLZ4D0/s1600/IMG_0132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d22A5Db3g4M/TWxKRYK_IkI/AAAAAAAAAaE/t-7v4gLZ4D0/s320/IMG_0132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578915700811964994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2lqP3jBULrE/TWxKQ-uisgI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/m0nKx7eA0HM/s1600/IMG_0133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2lqP3jBULrE/TWxKQ-uisgI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/m0nKx7eA0HM/s320/IMG_0133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578915693981774338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LAYRix4rAw/TWxQAg-qIOI/AAAAAAAAAaU/rP3fnOFfkrk/s1600/IMG_0134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LAYRix4rAw/TWxQAg-qIOI/AAAAAAAAAaU/rP3fnOFfkrk/s320/IMG_0134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578922008188166370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K7TfmcUSiZo/TWxKQRSO1GI/AAAAAAAAAZs/OwBMqgcduIg/s1600/IMG_0135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K7TfmcUSiZo/TWxKQRSO1GI/AAAAAAAAAZs/OwBMqgcduIg/s320/IMG_0135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578915681783436386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HBxtJ9g_CJQ/TWxKP04rOzI/AAAAAAAAAZk/CHdLW83K6AM/s1600/IMG_0139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HBxtJ9g_CJQ/TWxKP04rOzI/AAAAAAAAAZk/CHdLW83K6AM/s320/IMG_0139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578915674160053042" 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/1003229334638179054-4300340505229951041?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4300340505229951041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/snow-day-2011.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4300340505229951041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4300340505229951041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/snow-day-2011.html' title='Snow day 2011'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d22A5Db3g4M/TWxKRYK_IkI/AAAAAAAAAaE/t-7v4gLZ4D0/s72-c/IMG_0132.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-474553522307947258</id><published>2011-02-25T22:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T22:58:51.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All I've done this week</title><content type='html'>I'm a cluster photographer. I take dozens of pictures in a matter of days and then nothing for weeks. As proof, I will tell you, the three pictures included in this blog post are the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; pictures I've taken since Erin left (not counting my show off picture of James's birthday present).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGVb9fQcEPo/TWiachLk3VI/AAAAAAAAAZE/96rY-j7e9P8/s1600/IMG_0131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGVb9fQcEPo/TWiachLk3VI/AAAAAAAAAZE/96rY-j7e9P8/s320/IMG_0131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577877953232297298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We've all been getting over a cold. Surprisingly, I seem to have been hit the hardest. While Cadence and Megan had the cough and runny nose, I was the only one running a fever of 102 for two days. It didn't even register that I had a fever the first day. All I knew was I was crazy sore when I woke up and was wishing the foam mattress pad we ordered would arrive already. Then when the achiness only got worse and I began getting chills, I clued in and took my temperature. At which point, I promptly plopped my butt on the couch and spent the rest of the day watching TV with my girls. They were sick, as I said, so they slept pretty well, when all is said and done and I got some decent rest moments myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o3LjngirG28/TWiadSI5SPI/AAAAAAAAAZU/bCMVmmq6p9k/s1600/IMG_0129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o3LjngirG28/TWiadSI5SPI/AAAAAAAAAZU/bCMVmmq6p9k/s320/IMG_0129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577877966374390002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We've had a bit of maintenance drama here. We called in about a soft spot on the ceiling of our shower a month ago. They came in, cut the spot out and put a piece of wood over it. They said they'd come back to paint it, but two weeks later, we still hadn't heard from anyone. The soft spot had grown and gray splotches of mold were appearing. We put in yet another call, during which they came to look, but made no repairs. Then we got a phone call asking about repairs that had been claimed as "completed". When we explained that the problem remained, still nothing happened. Finally, the past few days, water began dripping steadily (when our upstairs neighbors showered) right into our bathroom. James went and filed a complaint. They came in that night, cut out the portion of the ceiling and stapled a trash bag over it. Apparently the guy who'd been in charge of the repair had recently been fired, but they're limited since our upstairs neighbors require 24 hours notice before maintenance can enter their apartment. So... who knows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ci2RQv5WPW4/TWiacziM2CI/AAAAAAAAAZM/mKEmqsSV9C8/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ci2RQv5WPW4/TWiacziM2CI/AAAAAAAAAZM/mKEmqsSV9C8/s320/IMG_0130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577877958159030306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, we're recovering slowly but surely over here from this cold. At some point we hope to have our bathroom up and running properly. Our biggest drama right now is Megan's blood work came back and she's anemic, which might account for the slowed weight gain. So she's on vitamin drops with iron and I'm trying to put a high-iron food with every meal. She's to be retested in a month. I admit, I'm a little nervous. It feels like I'll be graded on this. If she doesn't get her iron levels up, then I'm slacking somehow, right? Of course, I know that's not the truth, but that's how it feels. Especially since I didn't get the prescription iron drops, but picked up some infant multivitamin+iron drops from Walmart. Not looking forward to a lecture if I did the wrong thing, but I figured might as well fit the vitamins in with the iron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess we'll see in a few weeks! Oh, also, over the next few weeks, expect studio pictures posted. I've scheduled appoints for both girls and for family pictures over the next 2 weeks or so, and I always pay the extra few bucks for low quality digital copies of all of the poses I didn't buy full-size (plus the ones I did, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, for those that care, I finished my 30 day photo challenge (which is still linked at the top of this page). I slacked and took several weeks to do the last 3 photos. But I did them. Finally. Officially. Done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-474553522307947258?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/474553522307947258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/all-ive-done-this-week.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/474553522307947258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/474553522307947258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/all-ive-done-this-week.html' title='All I&apos;ve done this week'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGVb9fQcEPo/TWiachLk3VI/AAAAAAAAAZE/96rY-j7e9P8/s72-c/IMG_0131.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5690670572137534785</id><published>2011-02-18T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T09:04:47.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random pictures from Erin's visit</title><content type='html'>A few random pictures from Erin's visit. Cadence really enjoyed having a playmate more her speed. She loves Megan, but Megan's not quite as interactive as Lynne was. It was a crazy week with 4 mobile little ones 3 and under in our tiny apartment. Thankfully, we have 300 more square feet in this apartment than the last one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Friday night (after Seth got home) we got to celebrate Lynne's birthday in town. She had just turned 3 the weekend before, so it was only natural that she get a second cake at Nana's house. And an Aquadoodle from Grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tpCAv2PwR6o/TV6i5dhQjeI/AAAAAAAAAYw/vFvLpltk4TQ/s1600/IMG_0040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tpCAv2PwR6o/TV6i5dhQjeI/AAAAAAAAAYw/vFvLpltk4TQ/s320/IMG_0040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575072496791621090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life lesson: trying to get 4 little ones to pose for a family picture... You need to take more than 3 shots to better your chances of getting one that doesn't look like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EDmEiEpFa1g/TV6i5K8SFMI/AAAAAAAAAYo/SM54xyxhT9Y/s1600/IMG_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EDmEiEpFa1g/TV6i5K8SFMI/AAAAAAAAAYo/SM54xyxhT9Y/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575072491804693698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Decorating sugar cookies with Nana and Aunt Robyn. So yummy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bq3XGEs9T6c/TV6iRj6KYLI/AAAAAAAAAYY/l7ft4_okNzQ/s1600/IMG_0071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bq3XGEs9T6c/TV6iRj6KYLI/AAAAAAAAAYY/l7ft4_okNzQ/s320/IMG_0071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575071811311919282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan especially loved the frosting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pYG1IZB0FQU/TV6i4hCmFdI/AAAAAAAAAYg/vIROkiwpupY/s1600/IMG_0081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pYG1IZB0FQU/TV6i4hCmFdI/AAAAAAAAAYg/vIROkiwpupY/s320/IMG_0081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575072480556881362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We took all the kids shopping to get ingredients for potato and macaroni salads. Erin and I both had moments where we were solo with the four kids in the cart, and both of us got "looks".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-943iqxno7Vc/TV6iRNvv1dI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/tDyFQPDttDg/s1600/IMG_0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-943iqxno7Vc/TV6iRNvv1dI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/tDyFQPDttDg/s320/IMG_0086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575071805362656722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The laundry basket was the favorite toy at Nana's house the last night we spent there. Especially with Grandpa turning it into a ferris wheel ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W4Ed35RuWZs/TV6iQn9uRwI/AAAAAAAAAYI/yl9NYXJoM3Q/s1600/IMG_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W4Ed35RuWZs/TV6iQn9uRwI/AAAAAAAAAYI/yl9NYXJoM3Q/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575071795220727554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nC8AO218xxE/TV6iQaC0KtI/AAAAAAAAAYA/SoIv6joBvbo/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nC8AO218xxE/TV6iQaC0KtI/AAAAAAAAAYA/SoIv6joBvbo/s320/IMG_0116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575071791483988690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTES7SsImkg/TV6iQMNyE8I/AAAAAAAAAX4/Z1ywZS01Ekc/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MTES7SsImkg/TV6iQMNyE8I/AAAAAAAAAX4/Z1ywZS01Ekc/s320/IMG_0118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575071787771892674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(In case you couldn't see, Lynne's hiding in the basket)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-5690670572137534785?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5690670572137534785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/random-pictures-from-erins-visit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5690670572137534785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5690670572137534785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/random-pictures-from-erins-visit.html' title='Random pictures from Erin&apos;s visit'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tpCAv2PwR6o/TV6i5dhQjeI/AAAAAAAAAYw/vFvLpltk4TQ/s72-c/IMG_0040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7574357817604949366</id><published>2011-02-18T08:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T08:42:35.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday: James</title><content type='html'>James turned 26 on Thursday. We'll do a quick post just in case he browses through this blog (as he tends to do randomly), so he knows how special I think he is. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4GPBdt0QL4/TV6fRm5NHjI/AAAAAAAAAXo/gw2FFe4J5DU/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4GPBdt0QL4/TV6fRm5NHjI/AAAAAAAAAXo/gw2FFe4J5DU/s320/IMG_0121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575068513578327602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We didn't get to do much for his birthday. He had to work (extended hours now, as well, since he's the sole operator of his machine and they need stuff done). But he got to pack a single serving of carrot cake to take to work for at least some kind of special treat. While at home I made the full-sized homemade one. I also got to work on something he requested awhile ago: a new dice bag. In the end it wasn't quite what I wanted, but it's better than what he had up until now, so it'll do until I find the time to crank out another one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DOdm2u_IJWM/TV6fSMrQXqI/AAAAAAAAAXw/0eM9vUpUlto/s1600/IMG_0124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DOdm2u_IJWM/TV6fSMrQXqI/AAAAAAAAAXw/0eM9vUpUlto/s320/IMG_0124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575068523720367778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once he got home, we dropped the girls off with Nana and went out to a special dinner just for him. Got a free steak dinner from Black Angus since it was his birthday. We could have afforded not to use the coupon, but we had it so... why not? Actually, I got the free steak dinner since my entree was the cheaper one, but we still got dinner half-off. And since the coupon we turned in said it was his birthday, along with the check, he got a fresh cookie-pie with a scoop of ice cream and a candle on top, along with a birthday song. We were both too stuffed to eat more than a bite or two of the cookie, so we scooped it into our to-go boxes and let the girls have at once we got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, his mom will be dropping off the present she got him. I'm both leery and excited about the present. It's going to take up a lot of space, but I've heard quite a bit about James's capability with this particular present and I am intensely curious (though I'm sure he's out of practice). Plus, it comes with a surprise "free gift" that I can play with, so I'm excited about that, too. Either way, I've cleared the space in our closet to fit it. (I'll update what it is once he's received it. His mom really wants it to be a surprise, so I'm trying to keep hush around him).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7574357817604949366?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7574357817604949366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-birthday-james.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7574357817604949366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7574357817604949366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-birthday-james.html' title='Happy Birthday: James'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4GPBdt0QL4/TV6fRm5NHjI/AAAAAAAAAXo/gw2FFe4J5DU/s72-c/IMG_0121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3125728257252837336</id><published>2011-02-16T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T15:11:02.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Megan's 15 months</title><content type='html'>A fairly uneventful visit, as most doctor visits go. Cadence was even pretty happy hanging out with us in the exam room, so not even a tantrum to talk about. We got Megan measured, got into the exam room, and they just went crazy talking and exploring (within certain limits). It did go downhill once, when I attempted to put her clothes back on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a few concerns. But before I go into that, let's get into the stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Height:&lt;/span&gt; 30.5" (50th percent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weight: &lt;/span&gt;18.5 lbs (pretty far below 5th percent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For comparison, 1 year stats (3 months ago)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Height: &lt;/span&gt;28.75"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weight: &lt;/span&gt;17lbs 3oz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, the biggest concern is that she was staying around the 25th percentile for her first 3 doctor visits and then began dropping. She was noticeably below the 5th percentile line last check-up. And she was even lower on the chart this time around. Her new doctor (her old one left the practice) expressed concern. I admit, I know she's small, but even as the doctor was lecturing me on how I should put butter on her vegetables and add a scoop of mashed potatoes to her meals to plump her up. I'm reluctant to change her eating habits. Other than having fast food more often that I'd care to admit, my girls eat fairly well. I'm adding carbs to her diet, as the doctor suggested, but I just can't bring myself to add butter to her diet just to make her fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the weight, the doctor had nothing but good things to say. Said all her breathing sounds and such were great, heart sounded good, etc. She continues to meet her milestones (which is why I'm so unconcerned with her slow weight gain), she's full of energy, and her height is gaining steadily overall. She did drop from 90th in height early on, but she's stayed around 50th ever since about 6 months. She's just a tiny thing. I also gave up nursing only a couple weeks ago, so I suspect the sudden loss of those calories might have resulted in some mild weight loss. Really, I am not concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did get the booster shot for her flu vaccine and then I had the pleasure of pinning her down in the lab for a blood draw. I thought they'd tested for anemia last time, but I didn't remember that until we'd already done the blood draw, otherwise I would have asked if it was necessary to do it. On the plus side, no vaccine shots. So at least only one thigh is going to hurt for the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3125728257252837336?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3125728257252837336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/megans-15-months.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3125728257252837336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3125728257252837336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/megans-15-months.html' title='Megan&apos;s 15 months'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7520026282880807269</id><published>2011-02-16T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T08:40:10.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Promises, promises</title><content type='html'>I promise, there is a MONDO blog post coming up. I have about 100+ pictures from last week that I might be inclined to share a few of. But the trick right now is finding the time. In fact, I don't even have time to list my to-do list beyond: Megan has a check-up (which will warrant another blog post) in half an hour. Ta!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7520026282880807269?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7520026282880807269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/promises-promises.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7520026282880807269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7520026282880807269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/promises-promises.html' title='Promises, promises'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6878273213372993209</id><published>2011-02-11T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T11:26:33.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome home, Elder</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-od1AfurHszw/TVWHmhZUJ1I/AAAAAAAAAXg/rdNaK3GiE8U/s1600/IMG_0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-od1AfurHszw/TVWHmhZUJ1I/AAAAAAAAAXg/rdNaK3GiE8U/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572509209810184018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seth is officially home! :-) We all were anxiously awaiting this day, of  course. By the time the final hour arrived, most of us were pacing. Beforehand, though, we just hung out at Nana's house (since they borrowed our minivan to transport our RM and his luggage in comfort).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1inn_JiHK8/TVWHmblyZ3I/AAAAAAAAAXY/3zEJU-NI3BU/s1600/IMG_0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1inn_JiHK8/TVWHmblyZ3I/AAAAAAAAAXY/3zEJU-NI3BU/s320/IMG_0005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572509208251885426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In those final moments, mom was sending Robyn texts to track their progress. We had announcements of "They're at California and Mt. Vernon" and "Just passed College!" Naturally, the girls had no idea what was going on, they just loved chasing each other outside:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWHmP4kWbI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KMZVnLWWBQM/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWHmP4kWbI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KMZVnLWWBQM/s320/IMG_0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572509205109430706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But Chad and Robyn were anxious staring at the hill that the van would soon drive over. We did have a good laugh when my announcement of "there they are!" (before the constant street updates) had Robyn almost getting whiplash as she turned to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWHlg9-16I/AAAAAAAAAXI/UaTU17lqs84/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWHlg9-16I/AAAAAAAAAXI/UaTU17lqs84/s320/IMG_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572509192515671970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oreo had her own message, all ready to share so Seth knew exactly what she was thinking (in case he didn't get the memo when she began jumping all over him):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qAVQhk42Zo4/TVWHlf_0p5I/AAAAAAAAAXA/UxXXzdzLTH4/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qAVQhk42Zo4/TVWHlf_0p5I/AAAAAAAAAXA/UxXXzdzLTH4/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572509192254957458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As the van pulled up, Chad attempted to jump in front of the van in an effort to greet Seth first. Robyn did her best to hold him back so she could get there first. Despite both their efforts, Seth crawled over mom and escaped out the other door and ran right into Cadence who got the first hug (not counting mom's first hug at the airport when they picked him up, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGo2xC7oI/AAAAAAAAAW4/M6zsCk33wwc/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGo2xC7oI/AAAAAAAAAW4/M6zsCk33wwc/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572508150394973826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A boy and his dog reunited. Aww. Oreo was so happy to see him. She followed him around for awhile, refusing to leave his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGooKJHxI/AAAAAAAAAWw/M5htbih3uxs/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGooKJHxI/AAAAAAAAAWw/M5htbih3uxs/s320/IMG_0022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572508146473705234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The only picture I have of Cadence and Seth so far. As expected, she's being a little shy. She'll warm up eventually. Until then, Seth has 2 other nieces and a nephew who are a little more open to his attentions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGofIDumI/AAAAAAAAAWo/vckGivn4Fyk/s1600/IMG_0024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGofIDumI/AAAAAAAAAWo/vckGivn4Fyk/s320/IMG_0024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572508144049044066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyone kind of just congregated after the initial hello hugs were done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGoLf6AOI/AAAAAAAAAWg/ppC7yD0XFzU/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGoLf6AOI/AAAAAAAAAWg/ppC7yD0XFzU/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572508138780360930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we all just hung out for the rest of the evening. Seth got BBQ Pringles as a welcome-home gift, but it was also perfect for bribing his nieces to come to him. Megan was not sure what to think of him. Even this morning she was still unsure, but I suspect she'll warm up to him soon. He's just too fun of an uncle to not want to hang around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGnqulKiI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Lm5FjwCNS74/s1600/IMG_0027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TVWGnqulKiI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Lm5FjwCNS74/s320/IMG_0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572508129983539746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, that was the evening. It was pretty low-key. We had pizza and just hung out. Tonight we're having the more "official" welcome-home dinner with family, but it'll probably be just as low-key. Still, there probably will be more pictures (eventually). And, of course, there are a few more on Facebook for you Facebook friends. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-6878273213372993209?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6878273213372993209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/welcome-home-elder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6878273213372993209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6878273213372993209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/welcome-home-elder.html' title='Welcome home, Elder'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-od1AfurHszw/TVWHmhZUJ1I/AAAAAAAAAXg/rdNaK3GiE8U/s72-c/IMG_0026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1444682972407448179</id><published>2011-02-07T07:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T07:43:58.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathroom Blog</title><content type='html'>And... we're potty-trained (knock on wood)! After a few very fussy diaper-free days, a light turned on and Cadence realized using the training potty was far superior to holding it and being stubborn. We had several tantrums where her little bladder was about to burst from her refusing to go. It helped when we got Dora emblazoned underwear and suddenly wearing them was also far superior to wearing a diaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So other than bedtime, Cadence is no longer in diapers. She even made it through nursery and several shopping trips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a few hurdles to cross. Currently she still tries to hold in #2 until she's diapered at night, but since she generally doesn't do anything overnight, if I give her too long in the diaper in the morning (like the 15-20 minutes it might take to drive James to work in the morning), well... She also prefers using her potty instead of the toilet and refuses to even try public restrooms (can you blame her? lol).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she empties her own potty (so mommy doesn't have to) and she gets through naptime without accidents. Yay, Cadence! ("Yay, Cadence!" is her way of announcing she's successfully pottied if I ask, lol. Mommy: "Cadence, did you pee?" Cadence: "Yay, Cadence!") It only took 2 weeks for me to feel confident enough to announce her success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I did have the epitome of mommy embarrassment in a public stall with a potty-training toddler, who proudly clapped and cheered ("Yay, Mommy!") and announced exactly what I'd done in that private stall to everyone else in the bathroom. What else can one do but laugh in a situation like that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1444682972407448179?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1444682972407448179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/potty-trained.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1444682972407448179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1444682972407448179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/potty-trained.html' title='Bathroom Blog'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7493801623364263592</id><published>2011-02-02T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T07:34:22.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All about Megan today</title><content type='html'>It's been a quiet week. Megan and I came down with a head cold. It kind of stinks, because we had just gotten over the lingering symptoms of the chest cold we had the week before. So we haven't done anything blog-worthy exciting except a few trips to the store to get some cold medicines and kleenex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Megan's gone and done some adorable things recently. Her personality's really begun to shine since she got so fully mobile. She still uses only a few words ("all done", "belly", "hi" and "bye"), but she's got the cutest grin that wrinkles her nose whenever she gets caught doing something. And she's climbing onto and into everything. We recently took the doors off our entertainment center when the screws on the bottom hinge wiggled loose and stripped the hole. Rather than fight with it, we just took the doors off. Megan spent about half an hour having fun with that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUl30MnzK_I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/tKootr3WObg/s1600/IMG_0055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUl30MnzK_I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/tKootr3WObg/s320/IMG_0055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569114152845388786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She's also REALLY into mimicking. Mostly she copies her sister, but sometimes she'll copy me. She did this the other day as we headed out the door. I picked up my purse and she stopped to pick up hers before we walked out the door. It was so cute I had to run back and snatch my camera:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUl3zzye1TI/AAAAAAAAAWI/KL8Vq7zTqQI/s1600/IMG_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUl3zzye1TI/AAAAAAAAAWI/KL8Vq7zTqQI/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569114146179306802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I seriously love this girl. I can't believe I was ever worried her personality would always be overshadowed by her big sister's. They've both got enough personality to shine equally (which can be a frustrating handful, don't get me wrong), with some to spare!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7493801623364263592?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7493801623364263592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/all-about-megan-today.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7493801623364263592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7493801623364263592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/02/all-about-megan-today.html' title='All about Megan today'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUl30MnzK_I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/tKootr3WObg/s72-c/IMG_0055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1955190287404419584</id><published>2011-01-26T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T14:06:53.687-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My living room</title><content type='html'>Okay, so this is the cuteness (she insisted on me putting the ribbon on her like a headband and it was just TOO cute with her curls):&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUB-X00JKPI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Ro3DJx8Zf8A/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUB-X00JKPI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Ro3DJx8Zf8A/s320/IMG_0046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566588087209371890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this is the mess the cuteness can create in my living room. I'm showing this, because I intend to clean this living room and this way, my random blog readers can hold me accountable:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUB-Xe2x4wI/AAAAAAAAAVc/cdwIYWN9L3M/s1600/IMG_0047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUB-Xe2x4wI/AAAAAAAAAVc/cdwIYWN9L3M/s320/IMG_0047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566588081314849538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two hours later,  here's what I've gotten done. Still need to vacuum and mop (and a few more things off the table), but:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUCa4b5MsZI/AAAAAAAAAVs/NfHnykN0rL4/s1600/IMG_0057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUCa4b5MsZI/AAAAAAAAAVs/NfHnykN0rL4/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566619433780949394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1955190287404419584?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1955190287404419584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-living-room.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1955190287404419584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1955190287404419584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-living-room.html' title='My living room'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TUB-X00JKPI/AAAAAAAAAVk/Ro3DJx8Zf8A/s72-c/IMG_0046.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8958225297154716502</id><published>2011-01-24T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T12:48:50.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're a McDonalds kinda family</title><content type='html'>This morning I had to run to Kmart and return James's boots. We'd just  bought them about a month ago and the other day the zipper popped right  off. Luckily, Kmart was cool with us returning tagless boots without the  receipt (gave them the card we used). Anyway, I've been searching for a  basic skirt, since my jean one doesn't fit anymore. Sadly, it's become a  pain in the butt trying to find a skirt that would actually go to my  knee that isn't ankle-length.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a late start since I was  perfectly content to spend the first half of the morning with my feet  kicked up, playing facebook games while the girls made a mess of my  living room. So by the time I'd finished browsing at Ross (and found a  dozen things I wanted to buy, but could only rationalized spending the  money on a skirt right now. Next week, however...), it was past  lunchtime. Luckily, I remembered that the McDonalds right down the  street was recently remodeled and has a great set-up for toddlers that  the girls &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;. And this time, I  had my camera. And since my girls are just too stinking adorable for  words, we'll let the pictures tell the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3lk0tJxkI/AAAAAAAAAVE/45B3kuajbGk/s1600/IMG_0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3lk0tJxkI/AAAAAAAAAVE/45B3kuajbGk/s320/IMG_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565857135285880386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kz44DK1I/AAAAAAAAAU8/-o-rY4LawFA/s1600/IMG_0035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kz44DK1I/AAAAAAAAAU8/-o-rY4LawFA/s320/IMG_0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565856294591736658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kzbC0Q_I/AAAAAAAAAU0/N0PbMmhY6GE/s1600/IMG_0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kzbC0Q_I/AAAAAAAAAU0/N0PbMmhY6GE/s320/IMG_0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565856286583833586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3ky21W-sI/AAAAAAAAAUs/J4he5faahsY/s1600/IMG_0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3ky21W-sI/AAAAAAAAAUs/J4he5faahsY/s320/IMG_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565856276863711938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kyfWktrI/AAAAAAAAAUk/0HpqlZ7_TmU/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kyfWktrI/AAAAAAAAAUk/0HpqlZ7_TmU/s320/IMG_0044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565856270560573106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kyIyMqGI/AAAAAAAAAUc/E1oACIdmA2o/s1600/IMG_0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3kyIyMqGI/AAAAAAAAAUc/E1oACIdmA2o/s320/IMG_0045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565856264502421602" 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/1003229334638179054-8958225297154716502?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8958225297154716502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/were-mcdonalds-kinda-family.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8958225297154716502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8958225297154716502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/were-mcdonalds-kinda-family.html' title='We&apos;re a McDonalds kinda family'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TT3lk0tJxkI/AAAAAAAAAVE/45B3kuajbGk/s72-c/IMG_0039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8073819916132474204</id><published>2011-01-17T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T09:47:31.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In 3 weeks and 1 day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;... we get a few more moments of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTSAChYEthI/AAAAAAAAATw/Ukw-yCpRA6s/s1600/IMG_0105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTSAChYEthI/AAAAAAAAATw/Ukw-yCpRA6s/s320/IMG_0105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563212220516840978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And 2 days after that, we'll have an  updated picture of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTSALmLdfrI/AAAAAAAAAT4/M38dFsD4hgw/s1600/DSCI0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTSALmLdfrI/AAAAAAAAAT4/M38dFsD4hgw/s320/DSCI0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563212376424939186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Yes, that's Cadence. That was the last time Seth saw her!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS- I'm 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/1003229334638179054-8073819916132474204?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8073819916132474204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/in-3-weeks-and-1-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8073819916132474204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8073819916132474204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/in-3-weeks-and-1-day.html' title='In 3 weeks and 1 day...'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTSAChYEthI/AAAAAAAAATw/Ukw-yCpRA6s/s72-c/IMG_0105.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-5625092268668947683</id><published>2011-01-14T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T13:34:12.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday</title><content type='html'>You know those days that are quiet but so perfectly enjoyable you wish everyday could be just like it? Yeah, I had one of those days yesterday. A morning of cartoons and playing and reading books. Lunch time without any major tantrums. Playing at the apartment playground where Megan mastered climbing up and dared the slide several times. A peaceful naptime. A tasty dinner with Daddy. And the cherry on top? Ice cream sundaes before bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBFcvDtRI/AAAAAAAAATc/0g6UtSyrJo4/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBFcvDtRI/AAAAAAAAATc/0g6UtSyrJo4/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157839159637266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBFKv9zJI/AAAAAAAAATU/7m3gut2G4G4/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBFKv9zJI/AAAAAAAAATU/7m3gut2G4G4/s320/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157834331606162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBE7sqLlI/AAAAAAAAATM/S49V25Ln7d8/s1600/IMG_0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBE7sqLlI/AAAAAAAAATM/S49V25Ln7d8/s320/IMG_0010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157830291205714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBEZTDI8I/AAAAAAAAATE/n1F8vr3eWuI/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBEZTDI8I/AAAAAAAAATE/n1F8vr3eWuI/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157821056984002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBEJbYZMI/AAAAAAAAAS8/rrm3VAFMoFA/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBEJbYZMI/AAAAAAAAAS8/rrm3VAFMoFA/s320/IMG_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157816796964034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAfQxGO2I/AAAAAAAAAS0/KxKmqndPYxM/s1600/IMG_0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAfQxGO2I/AAAAAAAAAS0/KxKmqndPYxM/s320/IMG_0018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157183111936866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAfC6KFXI/AAAAAAAAASs/_UN7FXXnvBc/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAfC6KFXI/AAAAAAAAASs/_UN7FXXnvBc/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157179391841650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAe0EKtlI/AAAAAAAAASk/K4U9ydXMKEU/s1600/IMG_0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAe0EKtlI/AAAAAAAAASk/K4U9ydXMKEU/s320/IMG_0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157175407294034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAeS-bvII/AAAAAAAAASc/QtqY2wkvH5g/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAeS-bvII/AAAAAAAAASc/QtqY2wkvH5g/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157166524873858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAeBTZPZI/AAAAAAAAASU/QrBULTjZINA/s1600/IMG_0028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDAeBTZPZI/AAAAAAAAASU/QrBULTjZINA/s320/IMG_0028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562157161780952466" 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/1003229334638179054-5625092268668947683?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/5625092268668947683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/yesterday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5625092268668947683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/5625092268668947683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TTDBFcvDtRI/AAAAAAAAATc/0g6UtSyrJo4/s72-c/IMG_0003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1664848559603246059</id><published>2011-01-08T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T19:00:03.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Been a week</title><content type='html'>I try to make sure I post at least once a week about the family, since I know a few people check in on this blog as a way to keep up to date on the going ons in the Smith household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a quiet week, though, which are normally some of the best. James had to go back to his first full week of work after having two 4-day-weekends in a row. On top of that, they sprung an extra 2 hours on him on Friday for mandatory forklift training (following a death within the company from a forklift accident). The girls and I have kept busy enough. Tuesday we went shopping, Wednesday we walked to the store to drop of a game we rented. Thursday we had a playdate so the girls to to play and I got to talk to other adults. Thursday night we went grocery shopping, then had Papa Steve's birthday, which we really only went to for the yummy carrot cake. Friday we went to the library, where I quickly learned Beale library is simply too big for just me with the two girls. We'll stick with visiting the Northeast branch from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls continue to grow up, despite my best efforts. Megan has picked up a small vocabulary, but she doesn't use it very much. She surprised us by saying "go!" earlier today when she saw me pick up my purse, but hasn't repeated it since. She says "belly" and "baby" which both sound the same, except one has her holding up her shirt and playing with her belly button and the other has her carrying a baby doll around. She babbles far more than Cadence ever did. Her favorite game to play with me is at bathtime, while the tub is filling. I'll say "hi" when she's sitting at my knee and she'll run away. So I'll say "bye" and she'll grin at me, take a few more steps away, then run right back at me, receiving a hug, a kiss and an enthusiastic "hi!", which then demands a repeat of the previous steps. She also thinks it's hilarious to try to run past me when I say "come here" instead of running towards me. She does it just to get caught, though, and thinks it's great fun when I catch her around the middle, blow raspberries on her neck, and tickle her as I lay her down to change her clothes or diaper or whatever else I needed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence has picked up so many new words I won't even bother trying to list them. She's combining words well. She's got possessive down pat. Everything is labeled as "Cadence's" or "Megan's" or "Mommy's" or "Daddy's". She's pretty good about accepting it when I tell her something is Megan's and will immediately offer it to her sister. She still doesn't have a wide variety of verbs to use, but she's trying. She's very opinionated, as expected, but now she has the words to make that opinion clear. Unfortunately, her favorite form of expression is screeching. And also, unfortunately, she has mastered opening our doors. Luckily, she only ever opens the door to our bedroom to let Taz out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our biggest achievement is we've gotten in the habit of cleaning up their room every night. I've been lazy about it and usually just tossed everything in their proper place on my own once or twice a week, but we started doing it at night and Cadence has really done well. The first few nights she needed constant prodding, but just last night she kept cleaning without me needing to point out things, except once in awhile. Megan does well, too. If you give her a lego, she'll put it in the proper bin and even pick up a few more if she sees any more nearby. If you give her a stuffed animal or a book, she puts it on the shelf. She gets a little confused with the "everything else" that goes in the big bins, but there's usually plenty of legos to keep her occupied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all. I'll be sure to take pictures so I can post some with my next post. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1664848559603246059?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1664848559603246059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/been-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1664848559603246059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1664848559603246059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/been-week.html' title='Been a week'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3635859917721575034</id><published>2011-01-05T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T20:30:48.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Day Photo Challenge</title><content type='html'>One of my friends on facebook did this fun photo challenge and I wanted to do it. But I hate posting things daily on facebook, so I moved it here instead. Every day for the next 30 days I'll add the next photo in the series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;^ If you're interested in keeping track, check out the new tab. ^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if anyone else decides to do this as well, be sure to leave me a comment telling me where to find it so I can check in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3635859917721575034?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3635859917721575034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/30-day-photo-challenge.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3635859917721575034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3635859917721575034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/30-day-photo-challenge.html' title='30 Day Photo Challenge'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2239846811291948490</id><published>2011-01-02T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T12:41:48.079-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TSDjBvqzBbI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ga4YCSY-MHk/s1600/hal4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TSDjBvqzBbI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ga4YCSY-MHk/s320/hal4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557691559290537394" 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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TSAagrOSjYI/AAAAAAAAARQ/1FJ63dE4Ac0/s1600/hal4.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy 38th birthday, Hal.&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/1003229334638179054-2239846811291948490?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2239846811291948490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2239846811291948490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2239846811291948490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TSDjBvqzBbI/AAAAAAAAARY/Ga4YCSY-MHk/s72-c/hal4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1326460982924504458</id><published>2010-12-31T21:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T14:13:36.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>California Science Museum</title><content type='html'>When we discovered the science museum in Los Angeles only cost as much as the parking fees to get in ($8), we decided to make the best of James's 4-day weekend and go check it out! For the most part, the majority of the awesomeness that was the science museum was lost on our 2 year old and our 1 year old probably would have had as much fun being pushed around the apartments in her stroller. However, it was still a blast. We invited Robyn and Cameron to join us. Since Cameron was just baptized recently, we also took advantage of the trip to stop by and visit the new LA temple visitor's center. Now that the summary of our fantastic Friday is over, on to the details in the pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cadence checking out the wall of ice at the cool ecosystem exhibit. This was the "Poles". There was also a cool jet ski but the one person let their toddler sit there and play with it for the whole time we were in that exhibit. Meanies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67nNtUiTI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/wEhLVks1QIw/s1600/IMG_0095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67nNtUiTI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/wEhLVks1QIw/s320/IMG_0095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557085272590813490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan thought being this close to the fish was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67m4hkqUI/AAAAAAAAAQs/676otinTSAQ/s1600/IMG_0099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67m4hkqUI/AAAAAAAAAQs/676otinTSAQ/s320/IMG_0099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557085266904394050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence was equally as thrilled. She LOVES fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67mjrHV0I/AAAAAAAAAQk/LGnb0vRdBX0/s1600/IMG_0097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67mjrHV0I/AAAAAAAAAQk/LGnb0vRdBX0/s320/IMG_0097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557085261307270978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not only is this an awesome shot (at least I think so), the bubble window was awesome in and of itself. It extended INTO the aquarium and when you leaned forward enough it literally seemed like you were in the aquarium surrounded by the kelp and the fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67mLoO_lI/AAAAAAAAAQc/Ev1KRW7BbAo/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67mLoO_lI/AAAAAAAAAQc/Ev1KRW7BbAo/s320/IMG_0100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557085254852738642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Naturally, the place they came alive was the "house" ecosystem. It was for children only under the age of 7, so everything was childproof. Except this puzzle, which Megan thought was lunch:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67l2fNTpI/AAAAAAAAAQU/ImPEGjjrCAw/s1600/IMG_0102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67l2fNTpI/AAAAAAAAAQU/ImPEGjjrCAw/s320/IMG_0102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557085249177734802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I did not intend to dress them matching today, it just worked out that way. They LOVED this red couch in the mini living room of the family play area/house ecosystem, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66YItlerI/AAAAAAAAAQM/k7J-IKb84oI/s1600/IMG_0104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66YItlerI/AAAAAAAAAQM/k7J-IKb84oI/s320/IMG_0104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083914040081074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They had toys for part of the science exhibit. How cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66X1vOSGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/cuO9TxHB6kI/s1600/IMG_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66X1vOSGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/cuO9TxHB6kI/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083908946675810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For $2 you could experience hurricane winds. Cadence insisted on joining us for the experience.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66XuAiIeI/AAAAAAAAAP8/pZDGX64-M-o/s1600/IMG_0106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66XuAiIeI/AAAAAAAAAP8/pZDGX64-M-o/s320/IMG_0106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083906871796194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence was NOT amused in the end. (This picture makes me giggle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66XJjZ0AI/AAAAAAAAAP0/DvcKXp5MLxo/s1600/IMG_0110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66XJjZ0AI/AAAAAAAAAP0/DvcKXp5MLxo/s320/IMG_0110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083897085939714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The best part of the new visitor's center? The coloring center, of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66W4wmpwI/AAAAAAAAAPs/topjtqxXeO0/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR66W4wmpwI/AAAAAAAAAPs/topjtqxXeO0/s320/IMG_0116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083892577904386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Playing near the fountain. Cadence was excited up until she realized just how cold the water was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65oPwyNSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/voAwzaiUkb0/s1600/IMG_0117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65oPwyNSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/voAwzaiUkb0/s320/IMG_0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083091298825506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No, she did not fall in. Robyn had a good grip on her. She just really liked the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65n1Or5uI/AAAAAAAAAPc/X1Lbd87ClVM/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65n1Or5uI/AAAAAAAAAPc/X1Lbd87ClVM/s320/IMG_0118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083084176484066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, I still love my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR-g3U1664I/AAAAAAAAARI/mHb1VsDpdBg/s1600/IMG_0122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR-g3U1664I/AAAAAAAAARI/mHb1VsDpdBg/s320/IMG_0122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557337337546599298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Family picture did NOT work out well at all. Megan's crazy hair and blank stare, James blinking, Cadence refusing to look at the camera. But in the other one, James was making a face. Butthead.&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/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65nYUfueI/AAAAAAAAAPM/brMeP9b6xHY/s1600/IMG_0124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65nYUfueI/AAAAAAAAAPM/brMeP9b6xHY/s320/IMG_0124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083076416223714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Robyn &amp;amp; Cameron. Who knows, if they get married at the LA temple (that's awhile away, but hey, who knows? It could happen!) they can have this pictures to put side by side with a similar one on their wedding day.&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/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65mxGLJTI/AAAAAAAAAPE/_KmKFsAlb3g/s1600/IMG_0126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR65mxGLJTI/AAAAAAAAAPE/_KmKFsAlb3g/s320/IMG_0126.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557083065887171890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1326460982924504458?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1326460982924504458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/california-science-museum.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1326460982924504458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1326460982924504458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/california-science-museum.html' title='California Science Museum'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TR67nNtUiTI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/wEhLVks1QIw/s72-c/IMG_0095.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-6576461220904305618</id><published>2010-12-27T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T12:22:36.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obligatory Christmas Post</title><content type='html'>There's not much to blog about this Christmas. It was enjoyable. We spent a lot of time with family and a fair bit of time just watching the girls play together and enjoying ourselves. James had Thursday and Friday off, so we got an extended weekend together. Friday we spent the morning with friends from church, Jacob and Laura. Jacob and James went home teaching, so Laura and I hung out and let the girls play. Once the boys got back, our little family headed out to Taft for an early Christmas with family out there. The girls got spoiled, naturally, and James and I took advantage of them doting on the girls to go do some shopping kids-free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas morning was quite enjoyable. Santa filled stockings with gummi bear packets. Smart guy. The girls also got new monkey toothbrushes as well. From us, they got matching pajamas, two movies, a video game (that didn't work, so we returned it and will be getting the next Leap Frog movie instead) and the favorite present: a Diego trike. We ended up playing outside for awhile and playing with the new favorite toy.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm-m6t9ZI/AAAAAAAAAO0/e1OXVKJe3b8/s1600/IMG_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm-m6t9ZI/AAAAAAAAAO0/e1OXVKJe3b8/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555444103634613650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm-DZSDpI/AAAAAAAAAOs/Z8cbVBc1yGM/s1600/IMG_0079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm-DZSDpI/AAAAAAAAAOs/Z8cbVBc1yGM/s320/IMG_0079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555444094099132050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm99oIZNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/POh7iiwmBfI/s1600/IMG_0080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm99oIZNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/POh7iiwmBfI/s320/IMG_0080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555444092550800594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm9lyjWbI/AAAAAAAAAOc/7Oc8jLCHFAU/s1600/IMG_0082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm9lyjWbI/AAAAAAAAAOc/7Oc8jLCHFAU/s320/IMG_0082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555444086152059314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few videos to enjoy of our time outside, including Cadence chattering at me. She's really begun to grasp simple sentences, but since her verb lexicon is so limited, she babbles a lot recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-20905d31563d54d9" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D20905d31563d54d9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331280905%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D35F29E5ABC9E4EFEBD0973A683540AE792805B3F.8483103AFA0003F9BB28129AE3D119491BB98D62%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D20905d31563d54d9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dyj7t12Avo6I5jcFmNAk-rfizEoQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D20905d31563d54d9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331280905%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D35F29E5ABC9E4EFEBD0973A683540AE792805B3F.8483103AFA0003F9BB28129AE3D119491BB98D62%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D20905d31563d54d9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dyj7t12Avo6I5jcFmNAk-rfizEoQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8301c619c0e0de69" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8301c619c0e0de69%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331280905%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D15C21A9EB7F7AFC424AD646521F847E7D8BBDBA9.7A0BE0922239749678C5C2265E2A13AC45229A22%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8301c619c0e0de69%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Da1kDdeIchNWJNy4xgFL4t4c4BPw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8301c619c0e0de69%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331280905%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D15C21A9EB7F7AFC424AD646521F847E7D8BBDBA9.7A0BE0922239749678C5C2265E2A13AC45229A22%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8301c619c0e0de69%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Da1kDdeIchNWJNy4xgFL4t4c4BPw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;James got a pocketwatch, a scope for his .22 rifle, and a role-playing rulebook for the Wheel of Time world. I got a beautiful red wool coat that was a size too big Christmas morning, so it got traded in for a different wool coat and a necklace &amp;amp; earring set (as always when viewing pictures of my apartment, you must ignore all the little messes or you're not allowed to look at the picture anymore, lol):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm9KkZsDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/kVvPf4HfaaM/s1600/IMG_0087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm9KkZsDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/kVvPf4HfaaM/s320/IMG_0087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555444078844948530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We then headed out to my mom's house for dinner (which is always a good spread). There were a few more presents. James got a cool looking sword set, I got an all-time favorite DVD: "A League of Their Own", and the girls got a Dora DVD (which Cadence has already watched twice). We headed home for naptime, then back to mom's for pie and a phone call from Seth, who should be coming home from the Philipines in only 6 weeks! All of us are beyond excited to see him again. And whoever else might be showing up around then, too *wink wink nudge nudge, Erin* (I'm honestly not sure who I'm more excited to see, lol).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we went back to Monica Ward to hear James's friends farewell talk. The lucky guy's going to Fiji for two years. The girls wore matching outfits to church, I'll admit. I swore I'd avoid that at all costs, but the dresses Jen bought were just too pretty not to wear right away (no pictures, sorry). Next week our ward switches to the 9am meeting time, so no more church through lunch and naptime, at least for a year. In the Smith household we're having a post-holiday cleansing, as far as food goes. After all the rich foods from the holidays, we're having nothing but soups and stews for the rest of this week. Perfect excuse to try all sorts of new recipes! Yummy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-6576461220904305618?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/6576461220904305618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/obligatory-christmas-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6576461220904305618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/6576461220904305618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/obligatory-christmas-post.html' title='Obligatory Christmas Post'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRjm-m6t9ZI/AAAAAAAAAO0/e1OXVKJe3b8/s72-c/IMG_0067.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-454589511214368500</id><published>2010-12-23T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T16:55:44.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Look what Megan got</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRPuGTIbMlI/AAAAAAAAAOI/SzHYiYKmoiE/s1600/IMG_0064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRPuGTIbMlI/AAAAAAAAAOI/SzHYiYKmoiE/s320/IMG_0064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554044557460189778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Cadence did so well transitioning so young, James and I had discussed moving Megan about as early. We hadn't actually planed on THIS early, but she's done so well napping on Cadence's bed and due to some recent sleep problems and the Christmas bonus giving us a little more wiggle room in our budget this month... Well, the stars simply aligned, so wish us luck! I'm optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I'm not sure how I feel about my baby being in one already. A part of me would love to keep her in a crib for another year, but I'm really hoping this early transition helps us solve a few new sleep problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-454589511214368500?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/454589511214368500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/look-what-megan-got.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/454589511214368500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/454589511214368500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/look-what-megan-got.html' title='Look what Megan got'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRPuGTIbMlI/AAAAAAAAAOI/SzHYiYKmoiE/s72-c/IMG_0064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3160242599440372246</id><published>2010-12-20T22:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T22:38:08.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leap Frog Letter Factory</title><content type='html'>While my girls are thoroughly transfixed by the Leap Frog Letter Factory DVD for the umpteenth time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRBIqRiqsDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/z3XhMWJfkB4/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRBIqRiqsDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/z3XhMWJfkB4/s320/IMG_0056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553018231648333874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I find myself pondering a few very important thoughts about it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) If the letters are 3D and very nearly child-sized, how in the world will Mr. Websley publish them in a book?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) How do they train the letter instructors to speak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Do the "guest speakers" come every day for teaching? (On that thought, do the ducks argue every time they're a "guest speaker") Or do they have rotating guest speakers? If they don't have regular guest speakers, how do the S and Q letters learn their sounds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) If the M's consume food to learn their sound... do they have to use the bathroom too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Same thought with the H's, if "water makes them h-h-happy" do they need a bathroom as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) How did Professor Quigley get Mary Poppin's tape measure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Why do some letters have hands, while others don't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Why did the dad ask the kids to watch their younger brother when the mom is right there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Why does the mom not join in the search for her youngest son when he's wandered off in a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;factory&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) If Mr. Websley's business is so important, why is the all-important presentation left in the hands of children?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes... I've watched the DVD far too often...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3160242599440372246?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3160242599440372246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/leap-frog-letter-factory.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3160242599440372246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3160242599440372246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/leap-frog-letter-factory.html' title='Leap Frog Letter Factory'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TRBIqRiqsDI/AAAAAAAAAOA/z3XhMWJfkB4/s72-c/IMG_0056.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4512960734165339793</id><published>2010-12-14T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T08:32:41.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One week of nothing exciting</title><content type='html'>Well, I try to post at least once a week... and it's been a week since my last post. We don't do much that's exciting around here. Slowly getting ready for Christmas, though I am way behind in my crafts. I had hoped to finish my niece's present by this Saturday so I can give it to her. But with everything else on my plate, I'll be lucky to finish a complete set for my girls by Christmas! It's not that I'm busy. It's more that the only time I can do it is when the girls are asleep and that's also my cleaning time around here. I think I'll have to push back my bedtime by an hour and see if I can't crank these things out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a nice, quiet week. We had our ward Christmas party Saturday night, that we had to leave before Santa pictures, since Cadence decided to be inconsolable. She literally ran screaming across the gym to get to me. That was after being restless the whole time. So we packed everything up (not that there's much to pack anymore, no bulky diaper bags for us!) and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway our adventures of the week in pictures. Thursday night, we went grocery shopping and it took long enough (since we can no longer go during the quieter mid-morning and have to go in the late afternoon) that we just bought dinner on our way home. Megan loved the coleslaw:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZIDlRgWI/AAAAAAAAAMI/OHLjpD-OTto/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZIDlRgWI/AAAAAAAAAMI/OHLjpD-OTto/s320/IMG_0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550573429437071714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence wasn't a big fan of any of it. But she's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loving&lt;/span&gt; the reindeer antlers we got from the $ section of Target:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZHkIWCPI/AAAAAAAAAMA/gYX3qh6VI7U/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZHkIWCPI/AAAAAAAAAMA/gYX3qh6VI7U/s320/IMG_0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550573420994234610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We stopped at the dollar store to pick up some snack containers that we saw last time we were there, so the girls had little snack containers for church (since sandwich bags and sharing were not going well). We'd searched for similar containers while out and about running other errands recently, but found nothing. So back to the dollar store we went! Outside they had some rides and I happened to have some quarters:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZHVhKoFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/QsfYcCIi8GI/s1600/IMG_0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZHVhKoFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/QsfYcCIi8GI/s320/IMG_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550573417071812690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZHJRsTOI/AAAAAAAAALw/v0dt_KzGfnU/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZHJRsTOI/AAAAAAAAALw/v0dt_KzGfnU/s320/IMG_0041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550573413785685218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Let's see... upcoming plans. We have the annual Christmas luncheon for James extended family next weekend. Trying to decide whether to crash another ward's Christmas party, just for another shot at Santa pictures. Looking forward to the next few weeks. Next week James only has a 3-day work week. And the week after that is yet another 3-day work week. So we get lots of James-time coming up. Two 4-day weekends in a row. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-4512960734165339793?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4512960734165339793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/one-week-of-nothing-exciting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4512960734165339793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4512960734165339793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/one-week-of-nothing-exciting.html' title='One week of nothing exciting'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TQeZIDlRgWI/AAAAAAAAAMI/OHLjpD-OTto/s72-c/IMG_0033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3877923921088680768</id><published>2010-12-07T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T19:17:06.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cadence's 2 year check-up</title><content type='html'>Well, from here on out, Cadence only needs to go to the doctor for a once a year check-up. I think she'd be more relieved if she actually understood that idea. As it is, she was quite happy to run down the hallway towards the exit once today's torture was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, the doctor was impressed with our little girl. I'm starting to think it's all an act and he's impressed with all of them. But when he expressed surprise and questioned me further in her colors and letters knowledge, I was quite the proud mommy! Even if she did bury her head in my shoulder every time he got too close and refused to talk to him. She was quite calm through most of his exam until he had me lay her on the exam table so he could examine her stomach and hips and the like. At that point I felt like a rotten mommy because she just laid there with her arms held up and looked at me and cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felt like an even more rotten mommy when I had to pin down her torso so they could administer the booster shot for her flu vaccine. Luckily, when they did the finger prick to check her iron levels so she was so curious about what the contraption on her finger might be, the prick was over before it even registered that she should cry about it. (At least that experience wasn't half as rotten as having to stand back while two nurses took Megan and gave her 6 shots last week. I find it much easier to handle the whole ordeal if I kind of hold her and whisper comforting things. Just watching my babies tense up and shriek and having to just stand there and watch... not fun at all.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Cadence's stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 18 months-&lt;br /&gt;Height: 33"&lt;br /&gt;Weight: 23 lbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 2 years-&lt;br /&gt;Height: 34.25"&lt;br /&gt;Weight: 25.7 lbs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's remained steady hovering right around the line for 25th percentile as far as weight, but she's dropped from 75th to just over the 50th percentile over the past year. The doctor was awesome and ran a quick calculator they have and said given her current growth curve and mine and James's heights, we can expect her to be about 5'6". Megan's curve is slightly taller, I think, so maybe 5'7"? Guess we'll know in 20 years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I suppose that's all for now. Be sure to check out the post below this for birthday pictures (in case you somehow missed them...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3877923921088680768?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3877923921088680768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/cadences-2-year-check-up.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3877923921088680768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3877923921088680768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/cadences-2-year-check-up.html' title='Cadence&apos;s 2 year check-up'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4675436806423627017</id><published>2010-12-06T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T19:21:50.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Party Pictures</title><content type='html'>My dad was gracious enough to bring the pictures over to me after he got off of work today, so I can share them with those that were unlucky enough to miss out on the fabulous shindig:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, my dollar store decorations to decorate the area of Pizza Hut we reserved. I was quite pleased with how easily the place transformed into a little party get together, without costing me an arm and a leg. We had crayons and coloring pages for everyone. It was a toddler party, after all. Crayons seemed a fitting theme. For the most part, everyone just hung out and chatted:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gMS5Tr-I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/p1IiInXTrVs/s1600/GEDC0719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gMS5Tr-I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/p1IiInXTrVs/s320/GEDC0719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547766449081397218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i7Dvlk4I/AAAAAAAAAKI/MAL_ful2Ct0/s1600/GEDC0726.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i7Dvlk4I/AAAAAAAAAKI/MAL_ful2Ct0/s320/GEDC0726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547769451491201922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The tasty food we served. Gotta love pizza. Certainly can't go wrong there!:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gLe4aWPI/AAAAAAAAAJg/CEQDZ0eqBDs/s1600/GEDC0720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gLe4aWPI/AAAAAAAAAJg/CEQDZ0eqBDs/s320/GEDC0720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547766435118995698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gL2N7mxI/AAAAAAAAAJw/YVmf4et5__w/s1600/GEDC0725.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gL2N7mxI/AAAAAAAAAJw/YVmf4et5__w/s320/GEDC0725.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547766441383271186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence having fun on the coin-operated car, though we didn't put any coins into it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gM3yZ5II/AAAAAAAAAKA/HasvWnI0Fck/s1600/GEDC0730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gM3yZ5II/AAAAAAAAAKA/HasvWnI0Fck/s320/GEDC0730.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547766458984555650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The lovely cake. I was quite pleased with how it turned out. So far from what I initially envisioned. But I made do with what I had and it turned out cute nonetheless. The smash cake was nothing special, so no need to share that. I just loved the crayon scribble idea:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gLlXcD-I/AAAAAAAAAJo/rcVbqOupBjs/s1600/GEDC0723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gLlXcD-I/AAAAAAAAAJo/rcVbqOupBjs/s320/GEDC0723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547766436859744226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence attempted to blow out the candle with me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l4Rj6sZI/AAAAAAAAAKw/L_u4JvTcf7o/s1600/GEDC0739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l4Rj6sZI/AAAAAAAAAKw/L_u4JvTcf7o/s320/GEDC0739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547772702195626386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Both girls enjoying their cake. Cadence was quite neat with it (until she attempted to clean her hands with her shirt). Megan dove right in. (Be sure to enjoy the video my dad took!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i8uyS23I/AAAAAAAAAKY/JFgfbedi-x0/s1600/GEDC0749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i8uyS23I/AAAAAAAAAKY/JFgfbedi-x0/s320/GEDC0749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547769480225151858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i8HkuXOI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/4N-wm5AY1nQ/s1600/GEDC0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i8HkuXOI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/4N-wm5AY1nQ/s320/GEDC0742.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547769469699251426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-60b33cabec1fce4a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D60b33cabec1fce4a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331280905%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1CF0986C1BC8E25D3410C0D6E78517F70ECDA750.40AFD0B147B2A117B5F1B2A83BB2688551173BAF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D60b33cabec1fce4a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoslHDFu6bIvRKOZCWSnOZDEZwME&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D60b33cabec1fce4a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331280905%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1CF0986C1BC8E25D3410C0D6E78517F70ECDA750.40AFD0B147B2A117B5F1B2A83BB2688551173BAF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D60b33cabec1fce4a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DoslHDFu6bIvRKOZCWSnOZDEZwME&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Look, I was there too (it's not often I post pictures of myself, since I'm usually behind the camera. I couldn't resist). My mom took over cutting the cake soon so I could sit and enjoy Megan making a mess:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i9Eh2_TI/AAAAAAAAAKg/_70cyTQJ2tU/s1600/GEDC0746.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i9Eh2_TI/AAAAAAAAAKg/_70cyTQJ2tU/s320/GEDC0746.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547769486061796658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Opening the presents. Cadence and Megan got constantly distracted by all the new toys, but we did coax Cadence into opening a few between new toys. A few favorite shots:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l5ZhEppI/AAAAAAAAALA/u9H9ZN2ByPs/s1600/GEDC0761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l5ZhEppI/AAAAAAAAALA/u9H9ZN2ByPs/s320/GEDC0761.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547772721511048850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i9zyjJ5I/AAAAAAAAAKo/9AD2oYIr8eg/s1600/GEDC0752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2i9zyjJ5I/AAAAAAAAAKo/9AD2oYIr8eg/s320/GEDC0752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547769498748266386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l419LuuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/ZIT2p7aivp4/s1600/GEDC0758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l419LuuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/ZIT2p7aivp4/s320/GEDC0758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547772711965276898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l5ocxJfI/AAAAAAAAALI/8LOYFQ1q8-E/s1600/GEDC0753.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2l5ocxJfI/AAAAAAAAALI/8LOYFQ1q8-E/s320/GEDC0753.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547772725519525362" 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/1003229334638179054-4675436806423627017?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4675436806423627017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/birthday-party-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4675436806423627017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4675436806423627017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/birthday-party-pictures.html' title='Birthday Party Pictures'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TP2gMS5Tr-I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/p1IiInXTrVs/s72-c/GEDC0719.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3151982630019128668</id><published>2010-12-01T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T21:18:03.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another post of nothing important</title><content type='html'>Still waiting to get my hands on the birthday party pictures. We had a lot of fun with friends and family, but I'll have the details for the photo montage that I will hopefully have soon. The girls have been dealing with a cold that Cadence brought home from nursery. A few pictures to show off real fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Megan and her snotty nose (notice the surplus of Mega Blocks littering the floor):&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/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckr19nzxI/AAAAAAAAAJY/GBaxNlFAdPI/s1600/IMG_0016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckr19nzxI/AAAAAAAAAJY/GBaxNlFAdPI/s320/IMG_0016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545941801768570642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cadence chatting it up with me. Look how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;old&lt;/span&gt; she looks:&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/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckrWNlTLI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/_1hgTRIc-g4/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckrWNlTLI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/_1hgTRIc-g4/s320/IMG_0014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545941793245580466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Daddy made sure her nose stayed clean (I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt; daddy-daughter pictures and wish I had a ton more of them):&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/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckrMs_XdI/AAAAAAAAAJI/bjurxfPTTKY/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckrMs_XdI/AAAAAAAAAJI/bjurxfPTTKY/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545941790692957650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They were counting to make sure all the soda cans were accounted for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckqmixgXI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mViizCRkMsQ/s1600/IMG_0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckqmixgXI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mViizCRkMsQ/s320/IMG_0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545941780449558898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things continue to be both quiet and hectic all at once. Megan is chatting up a storm and mimicking new words every day. She's walking like a pro and helping her sister get into everything they're not supposed to. Cadence has mastered about a dozen or so letters already, all from watching "Leap Frog Letter Factory" over and over and over... and over... But, the sucker works and it entertains her, so I let her watch it at least once a day. I'm putting off working on numbers until she gets all of them down. I don't want her confusing her numbers and letters, since the two have very different functions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We put up our Christmas tree today and both the girls were fascinated. They weren't so interested until I plugged it in and it lit up. Then they were enthralled when suddenly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;toys&lt;/span&gt; were hanging on the tree, too. Unfortunately, my only shatterproof ones were silver, so our tree looks a tad plain (white lights, silver ornaments...). I'll be purchasing some more shatterproof ornaments in a different color to add some more sparkle to the tree. Cadence tried to put the ornaments on the tree, but kept trying to put the ornament directly on the branch rather than using the hooks. Megan's only contribution was to pull the ornaments off that she felt were in the wrong place on the tree and bring it to me to correct. So helpful. The tree would not look proper with our her critical eye...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3151982630019128668?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3151982630019128668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/just-another-post-of-nothing-important.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3151982630019128668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3151982630019128668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/12/just-another-post-of-nothing-important.html' title='Just another post of nothing important'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TPckr19nzxI/AAAAAAAAAJY/GBaxNlFAdPI/s72-c/IMG_0016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2047753860754326267</id><published>2010-11-19T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T22:07:56.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Megan's 1 Year Stats</title><content type='html'>Megan had her check-up today. Been awhile since I did one of these posts, it seems. And after her 18 month check up, I'll only be doing these once a year. Anyway, teeny Megan still cannot be legally flipped to forward facing and at the rate she's going, she may not be legally able to for a few months yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, due to way too strict of regulations, she did not get her shots today. Her last set of shots were of 5/20. It has to be at least six full months and Megan went in on 11/19. That's right. Despite being reminded by my dear sister who went through a similar experience recently, I did not check the immunization records and took Megan in for her check-up one day too soon for her to get the next round of vaccines. So we'll be going in next week (this time with Cadence in tow, oh joy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, but Megan's stats (again with her last round of them for comparison's sake):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Height:&lt;/span&gt; 28.75"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weight:&lt;/span&gt; 17lb 3oz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Previous stats (August 19, 2010- 3 months ago)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Height:&lt;/span&gt; 28"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weight:&lt;/span&gt; 16lb 4oz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit shocked that she barely grew over the past 3 months. She weighs less than Cadence did at 9 months old! She's dropped off the charts, if just barely, in weight, and is in the 25-50th percentile for height, so she's dropped a few percentiles there as well (remember, she started out in the 90th here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor's not concerned. She's meeting her milestones ahead of "schedule" and doing well  besides. After just over a week of really working on her walking, she's walking I'd say 90% of the time. It's rare to see her crawl anymore. She's happy and playful and loving and energetic. I'm more or less unconcerned, but I admit I do have a few worries crowding in the back of my head where I've banished them. If she drops any further at her next appointment I'll make a point of pressing her doctor a bit. I kind of wish she had a 15 month check-up. Maybe she'll catch a cold around then, so I can take her in anyway...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-2047753860754326267?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2047753860754326267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/megans-1-year-stats.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2047753860754326267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2047753860754326267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/megans-1-year-stats.html' title='Megan&apos;s 1 Year Stats'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7825278859266805509</id><published>2010-11-17T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T07:25:00.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Terrific Twos, here we come!</title><content type='html'>Ah, the power of positive thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;two&lt;/span&gt;!!! Not only has one baby become a toddler, but the other is now on the verge of being a preschooler! She is so smart. I am amazed at how far she's come in a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She met most of her "big" physical milestones by one year old. But she's mastered running and stairs and jumping over the past year. She throws balls, she climbs up and down easily. She's learned to manipulate the world around her, especially in dragging a dining room chair into the kitchen to get to the counters. I can't say how much taller she's gotten, but I imagine she's got at least another inch or two. Her face no longer as the baby chub it did and her hair is still baby fine, but if you stretch the curls in the back her hair's almost six inches long in some places! She'll probably be getting her first haircut soon, if only to even everything out (since the hairs on top of her head are, at most, three inches long).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, most of her leaps and bounds have been in words and the like. I can't even count the number of words she knows. If I were to try to write a list, I'd probably spend all day remembering "just a few more" to add to it and just as it was complete, Cadence would come up with a few new words herself for me to add. I don't even know where she gets them anymore! Just the other day she used the word "chocolate" instead of "mems" for her M&amp;amp;Ms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knows all her colors. Not only can she point to them, but she can hold up something and tell you what color it is without any prompting. I kind of helped her, I'd point out colors whenever I had the chance, but she picked them up so quickly once she put her mind to it! She counts to 10 regularly (while holding up her fingers appropriately) and we're working on her ABC's. Right now she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt; the Leap Frog Letter Factory movie. We must watch it 2 or 3 times a day... in a row! She stunned me yesterday when the characters got the S-room and she began hissing the S-sound before anyone else even said the name of the letter. She hasn't done it since, but it was still a "whoa" moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves all songs. Nursery has really broadened her experience in that. I would sing to her, but she was never expected to sit and listen to my songs. In Nursery, her participation is expected, and she now loves songs. She knows all the hand signs for "Popcorn Popping" and sings "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" often. She'll walk in circles singing her ABC's. One of her favorite requests is "Jesus", more commonly known as "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knows an amazing number of animal names and even knows the sounds for a large number of them. Her favorite is the chicken and she'll "bok-bok-bok" almost fast enough to be convincing! Right now all puppies are "Oreo", and most cats are "Hanna" (which sounds more like "nana" right now), but they "oof" and "meow" appropriately. And bears, tigers and lions all "roar" as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could probably go on and on about everything she's learned over the past year. Any other mother of a 2 year old knows exactly how much they learn. But, I'm still impressed with my daughter (even if she might be only "average"). And she has an awesome personality. She may be stubborn and tantrum-prone, but she's so quick to please, eager to give a hug, and loves to just laugh at whatever she can. She loves shoes and "pretties" (hair barrettes). She'd spend an hour in the bath every night, if only the water would stay warm that long. If she could live at the playground, she would, especially if she had sidewalk chalk to keep her entertained for the rare moment the playground didn't. Such a sweet girl, even with her stubborn tendencies. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-7825278859266805509?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/7825278859266805509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/terrific-twos-here-we-come.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7825278859266805509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/7825278859266805509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/terrific-twos-here-we-come.html' title='Terrific Twos, here we come!'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-8404720313026812225</id><published>2010-11-16T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T11:23:07.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Old</title><content type='html'>One year ago today... wow. I've both dreaded and looked forward to this  milestone, as if this first birthday is what makes my baby a toddler for  good. It doesn't matter that she walks everywhere or that she already  uses a few words... she's 1 and that makes her a toddler. Officially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year with Megan has been so different from my first year with Cadence, and it only has a little bit to do with raising two instead of  one. Megan is my laid back little snuggler. She smiles at the drop of a  hat and always has (seriously, just smile at her and she'll grin big!). She's quite the distraction during church classes, but, luckily, nobody ever minds. She's just too cute to get annoyed with. She adores playing with her sister, but would gladly  spend the entire day glued to my side if she had the chance. With as  much as she wants to be held, it's a wonder she learned to crawl or  walk! If I ever lay down in reach she'll crawl over and either lay  against me or try to pull up my shirt so she can blow raspberries on my  belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's into everything, as all toddlers are. Her favorite toy to play  with is a bin full of toys so she can take them all out one by one; or  just swish her hands back and forth and listen to the toys clink  together. Her second favorite toy is a tie between my pots and pans, and  the singing puppy that Nana got Cadence last year for Christmas. She  can semi-capably put the Mega Blocks together and will spend much of  Sacrament reassembling the mini towers I break apart shortly after she  completes them. She still crawls, but only about half the time. Walking  is her first choice if she's already standing, and even sometimes when  she's not. Crawling is her first choice is she's in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has a few "words": "All done" is delivered with her hands outspread  in a helpless manner and is quite clearly stated. "Hello" is garbled,  but she puts her hand up by her ear like a phone when she says it (or if  you say it). "Meow" is always repeated after a cat or someone else. I  suspect she's starting to use "ma" and "dada", but cannot prove it, so I  won't say she is. But she has looked at me said "ma!" and fell forward  for a hug and will point to James and shout "da!" and bounce. Still,  they could both be random sounds as well. Only time will tell. She's  quickly learning what the word "no" means, but only because I use it so  often given her new fascination with plugs and outlets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves sippy cups and will crawls across the apartment at full speed if she sees one laying on the floor. This certainly causes problems when it's one of Cadence's pink sippy cups! Other than night feedings, she's pretty much entirely on solids now, and we'll probably begin fighting her on the night feedings soon (I'm just too tired to bother, lol. Oh, the irony!). She's perfectly capable of long independent play, but she prefers having someone, usually her sister, playing nearby. She loves books and will do her best to interact with the book when we read our story at night together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's quickly evolving into a toddler, though. She scrunches up her face and throws a fit if you won't let her grab the cell phone, remote control, or game controller that she has her heart set upon. At one year old, she's got tantrums down rather well. I blame the influence of her big sister. ;-) So, while she's my sweet laid back kid, she's got a stubborn streak as wide as her sister's. Luckily most tantrums are smoothed over with a few snuggles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-8404720313026812225?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/8404720313026812225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/one-year-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8404720313026812225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/8404720313026812225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/one-year-old.html' title='One Year Old'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-3558921929141676362</id><published>2010-11-09T21:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T22:32:11.639-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three years and still going strong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TNo3Hl33mSI/AAAAAAAAAIk/sXdGxvQxllA/s1600/sj03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TNo3Hl33mSI/AAAAAAAAAIk/sXdGxvQxllA/s320/sj03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537799295370500386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who would have thought the broad-shouldered scruffy redhead who got grumpy with me the first time we met (because I pointed out he was doing something the wrong way, and I was right), would be the guy I've enjoyed three wonderful years of marriage with? I may not get butterflies &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; time I see him, but I still get them. Especially when he happily confesses, early, the surprise he'd had planned for me for our anniversary, which includes him home early and a cheesecake for us to scarf down right from the platter as we enjoy a late night Bill Engvall comedy show via Netflix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, my sister has graciously agreed to babysit, so we'll be scampering off to enjoy a hockey game, complete with hot dogs and sodas, from the cheap seats. I think it's going to be glorious. Honestly, at this point, I can't imagine a better anniversary. Who needs fancy dinners, candlelight, and jewelry? Cheesecake, hockey, and hot dogs sounds amazing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if there's any doubt, I absolutely adore my husband. I do. I probably don't tell him often enough (but he'll probably read this, so this is me telling him again, I guess). Sure, we have our moments where we probably just irritate each other to death. We live together, that's what happens. But three years later, we're still living up to our goal of never fighting. He still makes me laugh pretty much every day. I love watching him with our girls and I love how he takes pleasure in the small things, things I tend to overlook because I'm always around them. He takes his priesthood responsibilities seriously, and he's so passionate about fulfilling them to the best of his abilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amused that some children find him scary. Even his Sunday School kid once remarked "Do you realized how scary you are?" He has such a gruff exterior, but he's the biggest softy in the world, something I tease him about constantly. Yet, while other toddlers eye him nervously, our daughters know what a teddy bear he is and will gladly settle down to snuggle with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my husband is pretty amazing. I think I'll keep him around for a little longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-3558921929141676362?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/3558921929141676362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/three-years-and-still-going-strong.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3558921929141676362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/3558921929141676362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/three-years-and-still-going-strong.html' title='Three years and still going strong'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TNo3Hl33mSI/AAAAAAAAAIk/sXdGxvQxllA/s72-c/sj03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-2707753483389403278</id><published>2010-11-02T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T22:50:46.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acting out for Attention</title><content type='html'>Cute stories, cute stories, cute stories. My kids may drive me up the wall and I may be relieved when bedtime finally arrives and I can sit back and put off doing the cleaning around the apartment. But, my kids are cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence has begun actively seeking my attention. Especially in the form of mimicking her sister to get it. This afternoon, Megan got her leg tangled up in the cord of the vacuum and I swooped into rescue her. As I gave her kisses to calm her down, Cadence raced over and wrapped the cord loosely around her own leg and began fussing. She happily accepted my rescue and kisses and went about as if nothing had happened. Then, later, Megan toppled over and I ran into the room to once again administer kisses and snuggles for comfort. Cadence immediately rolled herself off of her bed and began whining for attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, during bathtime, Megan was standing up. I very firmly told her to sit down and once she complied, I gave her a cheerful "thank you!". Almost instantly, Cadence popped up to a standing position and grinned at me expectantly. She was overjoyed when I also issued her the command to sit down and gave her the "thank you" as well. Silly girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan's also begun interacting more. We're loving it. Aside from insistently pointing to what she wants and throwing fits when she doesn't get her way, she's begun "singing" with me. I sing silly songs with Cadence on a daily basis. Her favorite song is the "3 Little Monkeys Swinging in a Tree". She &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt; it. I sing that song more than any other song. This evening, though, as I was waving my hands to be the 3 little monkeys, I noticed Megan holding her hands up and waving. As I got to the alligator she began clapping. I realized she was "singing along" in the only way she could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even cuter, after bathtime, she got a very serious look on her face and clapped her hands once. I grinned at her, but kept putting her in pajamas. Again, the serious look and her hands clapping once. She was beginning to look quite upset. On a hunch, I began singing the song again. She got the biggest grin on her face and immediately began waving her hands along with mine. Once we'd gone through it once she was perfectly content to crawl off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It startles me, sometimes, how old Megan is getting. Cadence I'm used to aging. Each of her milestones is new, and while I love watching Megan master new things, sometimes it's easy to not treat her like she's a 1 year old. She's my baby. Cadence is my precocious toddler who masters new things daily, Megan is my sweet cuddly baby and she's supposed to stay that way. It's so strange to think that she's not a baby much longer. She'll be 1 in less than two weeks. She's walking more and more. Soon, she'll be talking. Heck, she already says "all done". When we finish diaper changes, or clothes changes, or when I asked her if she's done eating, she'll hold out her hands and say "all done". Sometimes she'll say it for no reason whatsoever. She claps and says "yay" and "whee" and she chases after Taz meowing the whole time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, they're both pretty sparse on the whole hair thing, so until I have to start putting their hair in ponytails and barrettes, I can at least pretend they're still babies! Except, one of my babies starts Sunbeams in just over a year, and the other one starts nursery next May. Gah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-2707753483389403278?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/2707753483389403278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/acting-out-for-attention.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2707753483389403278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/2707753483389403278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/11/acting-out-for-attention.html' title='Acting out for Attention'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-4022113846456240126</id><published>2010-10-30T18:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T19:12:24.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Boys and girls of every age&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wouldn't you like to see something strange?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Come with us and you will see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This, our town of Halloween&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that song from the "Nightmare Before Christmas". I think a part of my affection for the song stems from 8th Grade Show Choir, when we sang the song with flashlights under our face being turned on and off in a choreographed fashion. So very cool to a 13 year old...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it is Saturday night, so the bulk of our Halloween activities are coming to an end. Tomorrow night we'll be handing out candy to the plethora of kids that live in our complex (and perhaps a few complexes over). We've got a skeleton on our door and pumpkins on our porch. So it's not completely over, but it's mostly there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls have enjoyed three different parties. First a small playgroup get together, where the girls ate brownies and cookies at 10 in the morning and "trick or treated" down a hallway with all of three doors. The girls were dressed up as pirates. Cadence is technically wearing a "boys costume", but she's such a doll in it! And Megan looks precious in the pirate princess costume we'd initially bought for Cadence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMzQQ16bMUI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UUgN-u-sc38/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMzQQ16bMUI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UUgN-u-sc38/s320/IMG_0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534027029900112194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMzJoyjy1gI/AAAAAAAAAIM/uGA_5wZI18E/s1600/IMG_0064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMzJoyjy1gI/AAAAAAAAAIM/uGA_5wZI18E/s320/IMG_0064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534019744735352322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Friday night we crashed Nana's ward's Halloween party. This was a fairly late start for a party, so the girls didn't do as well. They enjoyed the dinner and Cadence was happy to get a small bit of candy in her pail. She was tired, though, so we only made it once through the line (goodness knows there was enough candy to make it through multiple times before they even came close to running out) before we escaped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then tonight, we went to our own ward's party. This one started much earlier, which was convenient. Except Cadence went down for her nap late and we had to wake her up in order to be late for the party. Still, once she got to fish for some tootsie rolls, she was in a pretty good mood. Plus, they served hot dogs, which is always a favorite of hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was much more awake and happy for tonight's trunk or treat, though she still threw a fit that we were steering her towards it (some days she refuses to go where we want her to go, just out of spite). Once we got to the first car and she was given a sucker, she calmed down. We got to the second car and she happily ate her sucker while I trick or treated for her. By the fourth or fifth car, she realized that when I held out her hand with the bucket people put more candy in there for her. By the end of our first trip through the cars, she was happily holding out her bucket with one hand and impatiently pointing to the empty space inside with the others until the people put candy in her bucket. She even insisted on two helpings from the bishop. She was also not shy about showing her disapproval of what one person chose to put in her bucket by taking it out, dropping it unceremoniously on the ground, and walking on to the next car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tonight, we retire the costumes. I'll probably hold on to them until next year, just in case. But they'll most likely be replaced with new ideas. What fun is re-using costumes, after all? Maybe we'll just toss them in a bucket to become dress-up clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-4022113846456240126?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/4022113846456240126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-is-halloween.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4022113846456240126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/4022113846456240126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-is-halloween.html' title='This is Halloween'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMzQQ16bMUI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UUgN-u-sc38/s72-c/IMG_0065.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1159111322728246880</id><published>2010-10-28T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T15:54:21.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our awesome pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMn-5orSjvI/AAAAAAAAAIE/-jBntsan48o/s1600/IMG_0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMn-5orSjvI/AAAAAAAAAIE/-jBntsan48o/s320/IMG_0063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533233883326353138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence painted the base, then I added the faces. Cadence decided it wasn't quite good enough and added a few details in black crayon. And then we put them on our doorstep. Awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-1159111322728246880?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1159111322728246880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/our-awesome-pumpkins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1159111322728246880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1159111322728246880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/our-awesome-pumpkins.html' title='Our awesome pumpkins'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TMn-5orSjvI/AAAAAAAAAIE/-jBntsan48o/s72-c/IMG_0063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-380673408433050918</id><published>2010-10-28T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T14:45:35.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Motherhood Superpowers!</title><content type='html'>So, I've decided, motherhood has given me superpowers. Honestly. Here's a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I can run on virtually nothing. I do not need to recharge at all! A few hours of sleep is now merely a luxury and I can run off of water and a handful of crackers for hours on end. Pretty impressive stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I have super smelling powers. I can smell a dirty diaper from across the room. Half the time, I can even tell which one it is by subtle differences in the smell. I'm just that awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I have super hearing. Even with headphones over one ear listening to something, I hear the tiniest fussing from the girls' bedroom and I'm out of my seat and halfway to the girls while James, who has both ears uncovered and is usually closer to the room, hears nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I am tri-lingual, whereas before I had kids I couldn't even pick up Spanish. Now, however, I understand, almost fluently, English, Cadencian and Meganese. James is still learning the languages, but he's picked up a fair number of words as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I have super-speed! I can dash across the apartment and grab a toy from Cadence before she smacks her sister over the head with it in the time it takes her to form the thought and raise the toy up. I can also get breakfast done, diapers changed, clothes changed, and a diaper bag packed and be out the door within 15 minutes of waking up. How's that for speed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are others, but my super mind-reading powers are warning me that Megan's thinking about trying to wake her sister up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-380673408433050918?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/380673408433050918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-motherhood-superpowers.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/380673408433050918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/380673408433050918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-motherhood-superpowers.html' title='My Motherhood Superpowers!'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-710137203166788866</id><published>2010-10-21T21:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T22:34:30.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Training Success</title><content type='html'>I know I'm probably jinxing it, but I must brag about my awesome daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just bought her own potty Tuesday morning. Tuesday night, Wednesday night and tonight we let her spend the hour before bathtime diaperless. I figured, why not? She normally needs a diaper change an hour before bathtime anyway, so why waste a diaper when we can make full use of that hour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Tuesday night she ignored everything, just loved being diaperless. Wednesday night, I didn't notice any change. We were back in their bedroom playing for most of that hour and I was talking to my mom on the phone, Cady's potty was in the living room, and she would run back and forth frequently, which is perfectly normal. I'd ask her if she needed to go, she'd tell me "no" and we'd move on. But Wednesday night when I was cleaning up I realized the potty had been used! I was thrilled. Cadence had realized she needed to pee and gone to the potty without having to be prompted to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did the same thing tonight. Except I caught her this time, so Megan and I did a happy dance for her. Both the girls thought it was great. Cadence immediately sat on the potty again, but no luck that time, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we've still got several hills to get over. For example, she does great diaperless, but how will she handle underwear when the time comes? When do we risk no diapers at night or during naptime? How are we going to handle running errands? She's going to have to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tell&lt;/span&gt; me when she has to go potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'm still feeling pretty optimistic. I was going to go full steam ahead tomorrow, but my full steam ahead means no errands for the first day and being home for most of the second. But with groceries needing to be replenished tomorrow and a family reunion luncheon and other stuff on Saturday... We'll put off the full-steam approach until Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and today I reserved the place for the girls' combined birthday party. It's nothing fancy. But with 20 people coming just for family alone, we definitely couldn't do it at our place! Luckily, the Pizza Hut in the Southwest has a party room that's free to reserve. We were thinking pizza anyway, so it works out nicely in the end. Now we're debating what presents to get. Hmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1003229334638179054-710137203166788866?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/710137203166788866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/potty-training-success.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/710137203166788866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/710137203166788866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/potty-training-success.html' title='Potty Training Success'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-1309911821919569311</id><published>2010-10-17T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T21:28:42.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All about Megan (and a pumpkin shot)</title><content type='html'>Megan has surprised us with how much she's learned just over the past week! Yesterday, she had James and I laughing over the "words" she's picked up from her sister. While meowing with Cadence, we were both surprised to hear Megan utter a low "mow!" When we meowed again, she grinned big and repeated the sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as Cadence ran in circles shouting "whee!", Megan bounced and repeated "whee!" Right now, if you say "whee" she laughs and throws herself at you, expecting you to do something "whee-worthy", such as throwing her up in the air or spinning her around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the girl began clapping and saying "yay" with a big grin on her face. It amused us so much we kept clapping and she'd keep clapping and saying "yay".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;much&lt;/span&gt; more confident on her feet. She's finally taking steps without thinking about it. She bounces on her feet without support, catches herself when she begins to wobble, and continues to take steps forward. It really is quite cute. She's still trying to go too fast for her feet sometimes and will fall on her face most of the time. But she just grins big, gets up to her hands and knees, and takes off crawling as fast as she can to find a place to stand herself up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you wondering, our talks went well. Actually, the Sunday School president asked me to email him a copy of my talk so he could use parts of it for preparing a course on how to teach or something like that. So I guess it was good enough. I tripped over my own tongue far too often, but I do that whenever I get nervous or upset, so I wasn't too surprised or embarrassed, just laughed at myself, repeated the word properly, and moved on. James's went well too. I admit I didn't pay a ton of attention. I'd already ready over his and spent the 15 minutes of his talk making faces at my girls. What can I say? I'm head over heels for those two little blonds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence got to her paint her Halloween pumpkin. I carved the bigger one, but it turned out really lame. Cadence's, however, turned out pretty cool. She got COVERED in blue paint (which, by the way, I know I said this post is all about Megan, but Cadence can now identify colors. At least, if you ask her for a blue crayon, she'll hand you a blue one for all of the colors. Blue and yellow she knows well enough to name on sight, but the others she just recognizes the name. Again, I was completely stunned. I've been going over the colors with her, but two days ago she just gave me a confused look over the whole thing. Then today...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMBYdFB9I/AAAAAAAAAH8/Yy2nj6B3s8M/s1600/IMG_0058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMBYdFB9I/AAAAAAAAAH8/Yy2nj6B3s8M/s320/IMG_0058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529237291643766738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMBMRS-cI/AAAAAAAAAH0/gF3fBDZxpUM/s1600/IMG_0059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMBMRS-cI/AAAAAAAAAH0/gF3fBDZxpUM/s320/IMG_0059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529237288373123522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMA50rEGI/AAAAAAAAAHs/OD2VSWURYqs/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMA50rEGI/AAAAAAAAAHs/OD2VSWURYqs/s320/IMG_0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529237283421229154" 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/1003229334638179054-1309911821919569311?l=anothersmithclan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/feeds/1309911821919569311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/all-about-megan-and-pumpkin-shot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1309911821919569311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1003229334638179054/posts/default/1309911821919569311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anothersmithclan.blogspot.com/2010/10/all-about-megan-and-pumpkin-shot.html' title='All about Megan (and a pumpkin shot)'/><author><name>Sarah Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02792732079861014641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83QT2papxhQ/ThZGqpvi6RI/AAAAAAAAAnY/QXrOuY1RtFs/s220/Snapshot%2Bof%2Bme%2B4.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLvMBYdFB9I/AAAAAAAAAH8/Yy2nj6B3s8M/s72-c/IMG_0058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1003229334638179054.post-7293586034540415656</id><published>2010-10-14T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T16:22:11.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not quite Friday yet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLeDTz65n7I/AAAAAAAAAHg/-R74chFHgHo/s1600/IMG_0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HN4UBXw1gxg/TLeDTz65n7I/AAAAAAAAAHg/-R74chFHgHo/s320/IMG_0008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528031443998580658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadence has successfully learned the name of every animal in a board book we have. She's got butterfly, sheep, pig, cow, bird, chicken, monkey, frog... all of them. Well, no, she calls the goat a cow (can't blame her, it's got the black and white coloring) and she stumbles over guinea pig (who wouldn't?). But the other 20+ pictures she can point to and name and is quite pleased with herself. She'd go through that book a dozen times in a row, so long as I happily cheer her on and praise her each time. She loves showing off her words! She'll proudly point out people and name them every chance she gets. She even knows the animals names. Lately, every puppy she sees is "Oreo" (Nana's dog).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, we got rid of cable television in our household. I must say, I'm loving it. We didn't really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;watch&lt;/span&gt; a ton of TV, but I never bothered with turning it off during the day so it was constantly on. At the end of the day, I'd be irritated with how long it had been on. Over the past 2 days, it's already been on less. The radio's been on more. It's been pretty nice, all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've got some small plans for the weekend. Originally, we were going to go to a pumpkin patch and go crazy with that. But James is going out with the missionaries Saturday morning and then he'll need the afternoon to put his talk together. We're both speaking in Sacrament this Sunday. I've been working on mine for the past few days so that James can have full use of the computer and everything else on his day off. So instead of going out and paying twice the cost for a pumpkin on Saturday, just for a few photo ops, we're going to purchase ours from the store when we go grocery shopping tomorrow. We'll just take a bunch of pictures of Cadence painting her pumpkin (since she is painting instead of carving the thing for obvious reasons) instead. We will be doing that Saturday afternoon, and James will take a break from his talk to join us for that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan is beginning to mimic her sister recently. James swears Megan repeated "Spongebob" after Cadence. I didn't hear it, bu
