<?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-7722085233883336886</id><updated>2011-12-18T19:25:44.710-08:00</updated><category term='parenting'/><category term='goals'/><category term='frugality'/><category term='children'/><category term='procrastination'/><category term='Stories'/><category term='summer vacation'/><category term='time management'/><category term='positive thinking'/><category term='healthy living'/><category term='organization'/><title type='text'>On the brighter side...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-645304911041770477</id><published>2011-12-18T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T19:20:49.960-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>Close call!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Boy, did we ever have a close call today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;We've had a tempermental light switch for some time. The girls would have to click the switch several times to get it to light up. Well, today, while they were getting ready for their first ever ballet recital, I walked in their bathroom to a horrific smell. I felt the light switch and noticed it was very hot and it was smoking! Holy crap! I'm so glad Brad was home. I'm so glad we were home with the kids. I'm so glad we had the opportunity to catch this before our lives changed forever. Thank God!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;We had a new switch on hand, thank goodness, so Brad was able to change it out right away. Next time you have a troublesome switch, listen to it right away and fix it so you never have to go thru the panic that we did. Also teach kids not to throw water on electrical or grease fires. It turns out that our kids didn't know that. Lastly, teach the kids how to turn off the electricity and the main water supply for that matter. Remind them how to use the fire hydrant and where it is located.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I'm so thankful that we had a happy ending to our scary story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-645304911041770477?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/645304911041770477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/12/close-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/645304911041770477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/645304911041770477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/12/close-call.html' title='Close call!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3697208987582045163</id><published>2011-12-17T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T17:41:14.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is marshmallow time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-peB61EKdu04/Tu1DlTYwRTI/AAAAAAAAAGs/mbgHjX5kdI4/s1600/PA250373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-peB61EKdu04/Tu1DlTYwRTI/AAAAAAAAAGs/mbgHjX5kdI4/s400/PA250373.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687276212577125682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I think my last post specifically said how the first day of school is actually the opening ceremony of the holiday season. I hate to say it, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was right&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, in my few spare minutes from a family trip to the library, 2 parties and a ballet recital rehearsal, I managed to stop by my blog and I decided it was time to jump back into it. I've was wondering what to write about and then Brandon handed it right to me. You see, I was  in the bathroom, getting ready for our lovely neighbor's annual Christmas party this evening and I was encouraging Brandon to ask his sisters to peel him a clementine for a quick snack before the party. He answered, "I don't need a "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;clementime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;", I need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;marshmallow-time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;. He has been saying so many great thing, but I am forgetting them. That is one of the great things about blogging. Reading the entries brings me right back to the moment. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brandon knows the party starts at 7:00. He said, "Mom....I think it is 7:00." It is not, but I do have a few things I should be doing. So this one is short and sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3697208987582045163?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3697208987582045163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/12/it-is-marshmallow-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3697208987582045163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3697208987582045163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/12/it-is-marshmallow-time.html' title='It is marshmallow time.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-peB61EKdu04/Tu1DlTYwRTI/AAAAAAAAAGs/mbgHjX5kdI4/s72-c/PA250373.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-7637396789413842334</id><published>2011-07-31T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T17:07:55.503-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Summer lovin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xZQJLpWbl3A/TjXgjJl5TXI/AAAAAAAAAGk/0q2DEcPB3rw/s1600/P7110225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xZQJLpWbl3A/TjXgjJl5TXI/AAAAAAAAAGk/0q2DEcPB3rw/s400/P7110225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635657403198950770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Am I crazy? It is 104º and I'm mourning the end of summer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;The truth is that the end to the summer heat is nowhere in sight, but the beginning of the hustle and bustle of school is right around the corner. I can't believe that 2011 is more than halfway spent. Seriously, how could it have gone this quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;We are back from our summer vacation and I feel so close as a family. It is a challenge to keep our family feeling close when our schedule fills up and the pressure to get everything done builds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I also know that once the school year begins, it breaks the seal to the arrival of the holidays. I know, it is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;July&lt;/span&gt;, and I'm freaking out about the holidays. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stress affects all people differently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;My kids have grown up so much this summer. Alicia has braces, Alison has glasses and Brandon is blossoming into the sweetest, most entertaining little boy. We all enjoy being around him, watching him learn about life. I want to capture the preciousness of today and permanently engrave it into my memory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;The other day at the library, Alicia was watching Brandon for me while I was gathering a bagload of books for checkout. She came up to me and said, "Oh my gosh, Mom, he is so cute!" It wasn't what I was expecting to hear. I never imagined the girls to be as "hooked' on him as I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family feels complete.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-7637396789413842334?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/7637396789413842334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/07/summer-lovin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7637396789413842334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7637396789413842334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/07/summer-lovin.html' title='Summer lovin&apos;'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xZQJLpWbl3A/TjXgjJl5TXI/AAAAAAAAAGk/0q2DEcPB3rw/s72-c/P7110225.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-9130679137978014725</id><published>2011-06-07T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T10:25:51.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E-I-E-I-O!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_gX5ClLZ9QM/Te5eAliH7PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/rxVRYvTf804/s1600/Image05152011115225.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_gX5ClLZ9QM/Te5eAliH7PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/rxVRYvTf804/s400/Image05152011115225.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615529149545835762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Brandon has a good idea, he says "I-dea!" I believe it is the contraction for "I have an idea..." &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brandon calls McDonald's, "Ol' McDonald's." Then on the way there, he says "I'm gonna pet a goat!" We don't go there often, but he is quite familiar with the restaurant. He never seems to question why there is no goat there, though? Hmm. It is not at all like when my first born was 5 and in her only year of preschool. A friend and her mom suggested that we all go to McDonald's for a playdate. Alicia was excited, she looked at me and said, "What is McDonald's?" It was a proud moment for me, and a shocking moment for a few others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Here is a good one. This just happened while typing this entry. Brandon is constantly trying to find new ways of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;reaching&lt;/span&gt; me when I am busy doing something. He said from the other room, "Mooooooom, I want chocolate milk and you are going to get me chocolate milk.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Aye, aye, Captain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-9130679137978014725?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/9130679137978014725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/06/e-i-e-i-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/9130679137978014725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/9130679137978014725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/06/e-i-e-i-o.html' title='E-I-E-I-O!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_gX5ClLZ9QM/Te5eAliH7PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/rxVRYvTf804/s72-c/Image05152011115225.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-124285581095475395</id><published>2011-06-06T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T14:41:25.731-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Hmmmm, I smell something...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i7I50kLMuO0/Te1HKiYxHoI/AAAAAAAAAGU/bD7JCGhYCfg/s1600/P5180083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i7I50kLMuO0/Te1HKiYxHoI/AAAAAAAAAGU/bD7JCGhYCfg/s400/P5180083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615222556755828354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It feels like it has been so long since I've had time to update my blog &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;properly&lt;/span&gt;, so that is just it, I will no longer be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;properly blogging&lt;/span&gt;. Don't expect a picture. Don't expect accurate spelling. Not until school starts up again this fall, if ever.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So many funny things and experiences have passed, and then because I forget to write them down, they end up lost along with my pesky coffee cup. So I've decided I just need to get my thoughts out quickly, when I have them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So back to my blog entry title. My 2 1/2 year old said to me matter-of-factly, "Hmmmm, I smell something...it must be poop or dinner."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;He calls them like he smells them, what can I say. I'm glad we were at our home, and not at someone else's. I wish I could remember what he was smelling, but I can't. At least I remembered how to access my blog. Okay, my computer had the password saved, but still, I remembered I had a blog. Work with me here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-124285581095475395?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/124285581095475395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/06/hmmmm-i-smell-something.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/124285581095475395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/124285581095475395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/06/hmmmm-i-smell-something.html' title='Hmmmm, I smell something...'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i7I50kLMuO0/Te1HKiYxHoI/AAAAAAAAAGU/bD7JCGhYCfg/s72-c/P5180083.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3584331148243611201</id><published>2011-03-08T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T11:27:11.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Two year-olds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mbt7m9YVU_o/TXaB6DzUeQI/AAAAAAAAAGI/6XrN8tYr8VI/s1600/SSPX0228-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mbt7m9YVU_o/TXaB6DzUeQI/AAAAAAAAAGI/6XrN8tYr8VI/s400/SSPX0228-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581791622625261826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can’t live with them, can’t live without them. So true. You want do hear what my little punk did today? He almost cost me a minimum of $85 and a super-sized serving of humiliation.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Apparently my little bugger turned off the power supply to the pool. I never knew that useful switcheroo even existed, hiding beneath a camouflaged outlet cover, on the side of the yard where he is not allowed to explore. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a very windy day yesterday, which resulted in a lot of leaves and twigs in the pool. I noticed it was very dirty this morning. I was surprised our handy dandy little automatic creepy crawly pool vac didn’t do its usual bang-up job. I thought, hey I’ll just manually turn it on and let it work some overtime. Click....nothing. Hmmmmm? I go to the main switch by the actual pump. Click...nothing. Oh crap! I can actually feel my bank account getting about $1000 lighter. Crap! I call Brad and ask if we want to try to figure it out, or just call a pool guy. It is old and is very quirky already. We decide to call around and get some quotes on just coming out and meeting our pool pump. $85. I call Brad and we go through a little trouble shooting over the phone. THANK GOD! I try the stealth grand master power switch as advised by my oh-so-clever husband. I can hear some phantom ticking immediately. I have a very good feeling about this. I walk back over to the switch of my preference and click...purrrrrrrr. Yes!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we rejoice and groan over the antics of our little two-year-old boy. I realize as I type this that my husband is no real pool-mechanic genius. He just happens to have been a two-year-old boy before. How can I compete with that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3584331148243611201?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3584331148243611201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/03/two-year-olds.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3584331148243611201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3584331148243611201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/03/two-year-olds.html' title='Two year-olds'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mbt7m9YVU_o/TXaB6DzUeQI/AAAAAAAAAGI/6XrN8tYr8VI/s72-c/SSPX0228-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5425204012688933044</id><published>2011-03-07T12:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T16:25:26.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thumbs up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B3WADtvXTIE/TXVCJl33A_I/AAAAAAAAAGA/ID-lZGbId1g/s1600/P3070623.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B3WADtvXTIE/TXVCJl33A_I/AAAAAAAAAGA/ID-lZGbId1g/s400/P3070623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581440045748257778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E_ebQnsGLe4/TXVB3G9xkYI/AAAAAAAAAF4/BL3RMbeeuAM/s1600/P3070622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E_ebQnsGLe4/TXVB3G9xkYI/AAAAAAAAAF4/BL3RMbeeuAM/s400/P3070622.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581439728213922178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I finally found the opportunity I was looking for. Brandon and I were playing with our neighbors. He was having the time of his life racing behind his friend's cool, super dump truck. I asked him if he wanted one for himself. "Seems too good to be true," he must have thought. "I wonder what's the catch." There is always a catch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Right you are! When my middle daughter was 2.5 years old, this is the route we took to get her potty trained.....fast! Only she didn't want a truck. She wanted Boots, the trusty monkey friend of Dora the Explorer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Here is the catch. If you want the monkey/truck, than you must poop in the potty FIVE times. That is it. If he is ready, like she was, we will be shopping for a new truck soon. When we were making the poster, he couldn't decide which super dump truck sticker to pick. He said they were all "too puffy." So apparently, even trucks have the equivalent to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;bad hair days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;. Good to know!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So in the end, we settled on the Monster Truck. It didn't look puffy at all. So the game is on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; I'll keep you posted. 10-4. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5425204012688933044?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5425204012688933044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/03/thumbs-up.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5425204012688933044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5425204012688933044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/03/thumbs-up.html' title='Thumbs up'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-B3WADtvXTIE/TXVCJl33A_I/AAAAAAAAAGA/ID-lZGbId1g/s72-c/P3070623.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-8568230167976052312</id><published>2011-02-26T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T06:37:58.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cgiSr4ZQO8g/TWkPYhWZ8hI/AAAAAAAAAFw/HUBo_9sbS4E/s1600/P2260614.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cgiSr4ZQO8g/TWkPYhWZ8hI/AAAAAAAAAFw/HUBo_9sbS4E/s400/P2260614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578006527418692114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Yesterday was a full day preparing for a big day, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;today&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughters and I are celebrating the life of an amazing woman. She battled a cancerous brain tumor for over 2 years. For those of you who know about GBM, you know what a miracle it is that Cathy had two more years to love up and inspire her family and friends. Her courageous effort will surely last for generations. Our community is so blessed to have had her influence for 42 shining years. We also get to celebrate the 4th birthday of the sweet, vivacious daughter of some dear friends. It is sure to be a memorable day. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started with a quiet wake-up call by my 2 year old son. He has a pretty bad cold. He whispered in my ear while I was still sleeping, "Mom....you lake (wake) up?...pause...I need my chocolate newk (milk)." I so wanted to sleep longer. I told him, "In a few minutes, honey. Go watch your show." Yes, we keep the TV armed and ready with channel 106. He just walks by and turns it on. It usually buys me a few extra minutes of sweet, sweet sleep. Unfortunately, I thought I heard him opening the fridge and moving the gallon of milk. A shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins and I was up and at ‘em.  Good thing because I would have missed the incredible display pictured above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I don't think I'm ever going  to be able to whine about a busy day, because I will always think about how  much Cathy would have enjoyed any one of my challenges during her long  battle with cancer. It is a reality check that adjusts my perspective to focus on blessings and gratitude. Thanks Cathy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-8568230167976052312?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/8568230167976052312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/good-morning.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8568230167976052312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8568230167976052312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/good-morning.html' title='Good morning'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cgiSr4ZQO8g/TWkPYhWZ8hI/AAAAAAAAAFw/HUBo_9sbS4E/s72-c/P2260614.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-7636575779328463446</id><published>2011-02-20T07:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T13:42:12.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ipyhO4TUqE/TWEy-zfYkQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/f_NyJrbIgvw/s1600/SSPX0117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ipyhO4TUqE/TWEy-zfYkQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/f_NyJrbIgvw/s400/SSPX0117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575793868216504578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Living in sunny Arizona, my kids aren’t exposed to all the elements of weather that many children experience. On the way home from the gym it was unusually gloomy. Alison, my 8 year old, said, “Mom, we are learning about clouds in school. I just saw a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;gray&lt;/span&gt; cloud!” She was proud of her observation. My husband and I, both being raised in the Midwest, exchanged silent, but  incredulous expressions.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is where, as parents, we could have told the kids how easy they have it. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Back when we were kids, we had gray clouds for many days at a time. Sometimes it felt like weeks!&lt;/span&gt; But we didn’t. As we all got out of the car, I whispered to Brad, “That was bloggable, right? “Oh yeah,” he agreed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-7636575779328463446?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/7636575779328463446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/kids-today.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7636575779328463446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7636575779328463446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/kids-today.html' title='Kids today'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0ipyhO4TUqE/TWEy-zfYkQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/f_NyJrbIgvw/s72-c/SSPX0117.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-8056296123783823925</id><published>2011-02-02T05:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T06:01:18.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlh5KxX5dI/AAAAAAAAAE4/jK9UYe5zFGQ/s1600/SSPX0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlh5KxX5dI/AAAAAAAAAE4/jK9UYe5zFGQ/s400/SSPX0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569090048992208338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I find that when I’m most unhappy, it is because my reality isn’t following the path of my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;great expectations.&lt;/span&gt; I have a choice. I can wallow in all of the ways my life has strayed from my master plan, or I can open my eyes and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;watch&lt;/span&gt; what is actually happening all around me.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To expect is to attempt to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;control&lt;/span&gt; the outcome. To watch is to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;allow&lt;/span&gt; the outcome.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our reality may be different than we had planned, but it is ours to experience and enjoy. Be thankful, take a deep breath, open your eyes, and walk on. Feel free to take the scenic view.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUliTLT0B5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/MZJsM_PyMf8/s1600/SSPX0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUliTLT0B5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/MZJsM_PyMf8/s400/SSPX0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569090495813257106" 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/7722085233883336886-8056296123783823925?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/8056296123783823925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/great-expectations.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8056296123783823925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8056296123783823925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/great-expectations.html' title='Great Expectations'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlh5KxX5dI/AAAAAAAAAE4/jK9UYe5zFGQ/s72-c/SSPX0002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6124061509637095365</id><published>2011-01-18T20:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T20:40:55.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Touched by an angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TTZmptXG20I/AAAAAAAAAEs/WVriv5gBuIs/s1600/P1180583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TTZmptXG20I/AAAAAAAAAEs/WVriv5gBuIs/s400/P1180583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563747256400010050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I think you'll agree that it doesn't get much better than this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was born today, fresh from God, and I was lucky enough to spend a few minutes holding this beautiful angel. One of my dearest friends is the mom of this lovely girl. I'm so fortunate to live so close and watch her grow into a wonderful person. What is it about babies that makes time stop and causes us to slow down and be very aware? It is as if you can stare into that new little face and try to memorize all the intricate details that make them who they are. I keep looking, yet I can't get enough. Let's just say that she is definitely an expression of God and we are all so happy that she is finally here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Welcome, baby girl, welcome to your world. We love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6124061509637095365?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6124061509637095365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/01/touched-by-angel.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6124061509637095365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6124061509637095365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/01/touched-by-angel.html' title='Touched by an angel'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TTZmptXG20I/AAAAAAAAAEs/WVriv5gBuIs/s72-c/P1180583.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-2494030936420861407</id><published>2011-01-11T12:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T12:40:53.793-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>Welcome home, Rocket!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TSy7K6URb-I/AAAAAAAAAEE/ReVv6qI_uAA/s1600/P1100556-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TSy7K6URb-I/AAAAAAAAAEE/ReVv6qI_uAA/s400/P1100556-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561025436023091170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we expanded our family by one. So the official count is 5 people, 2 dogs, 2 frogs, 1 fish and lastly 1 sweet hamster. Rocket is a lovely addition to our family. He is adjusting well and learning to enjoy his new accommodations and family. We've had him for exactly 3 days now. It is fun to watch him adapt to his new life. The life we have to offer him is very different than the one in which he is accustomed. He needs a few new skills to be up to code at our house, he also needs to bond with us and feel like one of us, which has been going really well. It is helpful to have another dog who is familiar with the program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've never gotten a dog at any other stage than a puppy. It is amazing how easy of a transition this has been for us. At age 4, this dog is (hopefully) finished with his naughty/destructive stage. All he needs is some basic obedience work. He starts his Petsmart class on Sunday. I hope he feels as lucky as we feel. His name could easily be Jackpot, because I really feel like we've hit one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-2494030936420861407?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/2494030936420861407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/01/welcome-home-rocket.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2494030936420861407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2494030936420861407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2011/01/welcome-home-rocket.html' title='Welcome home, Rocket!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TSy7K6URb-I/AAAAAAAAAEE/ReVv6qI_uAA/s72-c/P1100556-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-4675687449020199512</id><published>2010-12-31T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T11:50:56.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolutions for the New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TR4zr4btJaI/AAAAAAAAAD8/B-xzHqXv5nQ/s1600/SSPX0120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TR4zr4btJaI/AAAAAAAAAD8/B-xzHqXv5nQ/s400/SSPX0120.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556935819197752738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought we could share what are goals or resolutions are this year for those who make them. I know sharing these types of goals can make oneself more likely to stick with them, it keeps one accountable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to take better care of myself this year. I'm 38 now and I need to take a little extra time for myself so I don't wear out. LOL. Going to bed at 10:00ish, vitamins, water, and keeping stress levels in check are a few examples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two mom friends that are battling cancer. They are a constant reminder to me that our lives are precious and quick and we shouldn't take our lives for granted. Taking better care of myself is an investment in my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to "finish what I'm doing" before I jump to the next task. It may seem natural to many of you, but it is definitely a habit I need to work on. I always feel like I'm being pulled in every direction. I need to make choices to keep me on the right track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I'm going to spend 15 minutes a day dedicated to reviewing, purging, and organizing  the items in my home. I want all our items to have been chosen by us, not just stashed and forgotten cluttering up space. I want the space around my items to have almost as much value as the items sitting in it. Over the year, it will result in 57 hours of my complete attention. That is over 7 8-hour days spent on the task. Also, it will keep me mindful throughout the year because I will be addressing it everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to hear your resolutions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-4675687449020199512?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/4675687449020199512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/resolutions-for-new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/4675687449020199512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/4675687449020199512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/resolutions-for-new-year.html' title='Resolutions for the New Year'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TR4zr4btJaI/AAAAAAAAAD8/B-xzHqXv5nQ/s72-c/SSPX0120.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-2540737862403028890</id><published>2010-12-29T09:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T09:57:04.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain or Shine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: lucida grande;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TRtyLrHhkGI/AAAAAAAAAD0/-pYTLrbx8po/s1600/PC190464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TRtyLrHhkGI/AAAAAAAAAD0/-pYTLrbx8po/s400/PC190464.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556160110170050658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;December 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: lucida grande;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TRtxmFOhV1I/AAAAAAAAADs/qRozaA8tPoQ/s1600/P1160036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TRtxmFOhV1I/AAAAAAAAADs/qRozaA8tPoQ/s400/P1160036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556159464343689042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;January 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; The new and improved Van Stone family meets Disneyland.&lt;br /&gt;When carefully compared, the differences found on the two pictures: a brother and lots and lots of rain!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It all started on Thanksgiving day.  We let the kids open a present once they finished their big dinner. They opened a long paper chain that had a scroll attached to it. The paper chain had dates on it, starting with Thanksgiving and ending on December 19th. The scroll, once unrolled, revealed the picture of Mickey Mouse and a message from us. Thus, our countdown began.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids were very excited to leave for our trip, to say the least, so it was impossible for us to change our plans even with the knowledge of the winter storm warnings that were bringing so much rain to Southern California.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So out the door, in the car, and on the road we went early on December 19th, just as planned. Brandon and the girls were amazing little travelers. The last hour or two of our drive was rainy, just an indicator of what was to come for the next four days. The kids opened Disney related gifts in the car on the way. Disney lanyards and 8 official trading pins each  for the girls and some warm Mickey inspired clothes for Brandon. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were able to spend about 4 hours at Disneyland the first day. It was a long enough day with the drive and the rides. The first couple hours were great, just a little misty or just a gentle rain, but then it turned on us and really got us wet, especially on the walk back to the hotel with some of the deeper puddles. I was uncertain about what kind of experience we were going to have with the gloomy forecast that was ahead of us.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Our suite was armed with an iron and a blow dryer, so they were well used to help dry out our clothes and shoes that we were going to have to wear again. After a pep-talk about the kind of family we are, and little orange diaper baggies on out feet inside our shoes, we were off to experience all that Disneyland had to offer. Brad had dry socks for the kids in his pockets, to provide some relief later in the day. We were able to spend 10 hours at Disneyland that day, and 10 hours the next. Although the weather may have dampened our fun in some ways, such as all the parades and fireworks were canceled, I’m sure we benefited in many others. We only had to wait in a few lines. We were able to get to see and do so much in the time we spent there. If it would have been pleasant weather, it would have been jammed and we would have been in line &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll post the highlights of our trip soon. A trip to Disneyland is more info than can be addressed in one blog entry. Our journey home was a little scarier. We saw some mudslides, flooding, and a lot of closed roads and exits/entrances. We had to alter our route, but we got home safely and that is what is important. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;In case you were wondering, Disneyland is still one of the happiest places on earth, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;rain or shine&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-2540737862403028890?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/2540737862403028890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/rain-or-shine.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2540737862403028890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2540737862403028890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/rain-or-shine.html' title='Rain or Shine'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TRtyLrHhkGI/AAAAAAAAAD0/-pYTLrbx8po/s72-c/PC190464.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6349103593894942248</id><published>2010-12-16T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T16:16:58.008-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><title type='text'>What my computer virus taught me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TQqpTURuGkI/AAAAAAAAADY/pGYMJ6tdaSM/s1600/PB160025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TQqpTURuGkI/AAAAAAAAADY/pGYMJ6tdaSM/s400/PB160025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551435640013199938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I’m sitting here all giddy, seriously I can’t stop myself from smiling. You see, I’ve just emerged from the land of the infected computer. It is so beautiful here I hope you all are enjoying an uneventful day. Take a moment to appreciate your computer’s health. Heck, back up some files just for the fun of it. Don’t wait for the dark cloud to descend upon your home and family because it is not a matter of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; it will visit you, more a matter of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously can’t believe I’m able to access the internet and type here again. Merry Christmas.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the second time I’ve encountered a debilitating computer virus/spyware/malware... whatever it is, it’s not fun. Coincidentally, both occurred in 2010. The first time this happened I was freaking out. I panicked and it rocked my world for a day or so, then I gave up and surrendered my computer to our local Data Doctors. They fixed it, but it came with a price. I licked my wounds, became proactive with backing up my files and creating a copy of my system’s image. I wanted to make sure that I never was in as weak of a position as I was on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So on Sunday, when this happened to our computer again. I was in a better “boat.” Looking back 5 days ago, I can see how badly I wanted this problem to go away. I knew that Data Doctor was not going to be an option this time. I was going to fix it this time. I sent Brad out to get Spyware Doctor 2011 that same day. Wouldn't you know it wasn't the latest version. It was a feat to just get the updated version via computer to computer transfer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;From the beginning to the end, it was one road block after another. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;After a day or so of it, my stress level returned to a “normal” state for me, I’m always running a bit high in that dept. (I’m working on that too, but that is another blog topic.) I had actually considered pulling an all-nighter on Sunday night. I had a representative that assured me that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I could do it&lt;/span&gt;! He would be waiting to work on the fruits of my labor. He informed me that he would be there for the next 8 hours to work on my issue. It was 11:30pm my time. Thank God, I chose to toss and turn for the next 6 hours, instead of trying to fix it that night. It never would of been successful and I would have been one crab-apple-of-a-person to boot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; I woke up relieved that my dream where my laptop lid broke off the computer was not a reality. Phew! I don't think I could of handled that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I will spare you all the fascinating “geeky” details of the road to recovery. I’m glad it is over. It was 5 days of  following email and phone advice, usually to no avail. Sometimes, I would be successful and I felt like I was making some progress. It turns out that today was they day that it got resolved. I was truly surprised. I think it was such a new issue, that the tech people were busy learning about it as new information came in about the “beast.” Hopefully, this “beast” will all be old info and be easy to deal with if it ever does pay you a visit. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m so excited to be able to publish this blog today. I learned all about patience this week. It was a brutal lesson, but quite effective nonetheless. I hope I’m not put to the test anytime soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6349103593894942248?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6349103593894942248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-my-computer-virus-taught-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6349103593894942248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6349103593894942248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-my-computer-virus-taught-me.html' title='What my computer virus taught me'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TQqpTURuGkI/AAAAAAAAADY/pGYMJ6tdaSM/s72-c/PB160025.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-1328892025974755364</id><published>2010-12-08T01:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T01:28:40.308-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TP9NtMG_F9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ovjioxSMA6Q/s1600/PC070450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TP9NtMG_F9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ovjioxSMA6Q/s400/PC070450.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548238704683718610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Nothing says it is Christmastime like our community's annual Christmas party. We surprise the kids every year and it is the best. I'm so thankful that Brandon will keep the Christmas spirit alive in our family for many years to come. I am so not ready to give up this tradition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. I am especially talking to me. I have insomnia...again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-1328892025974755364?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/1328892025974755364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1328892025974755364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1328892025974755364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html' title='It&apos;s beginning to look a lot like Christmas'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TP9NtMG_F9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/ovjioxSMA6Q/s72-c/PC070450.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6454078652569493654</id><published>2010-11-16T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T06:57:00.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TOKQADUtsFI/AAAAAAAAADI/TqJZD6cjrcg/s1600/PB130370.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TOKMysZX4oI/AAAAAAAAADA/gI9gAvou_rE/s1600/PB130373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TOKMysZX4oI/AAAAAAAAADA/gI9gAvou_rE/s400/PB130373.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540145294158062210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was inspired to make a healthy chicken tortilla soup for my family, using stock I made from a roasted chicken the day before. I'm sounding pretty good here, huh? I let Brandon gnaw on a freshly cut cob. He loves corn. He also loves TV. He decided to take it upon himself to take a load off, relaxing on the couch with his favorite treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seriously?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyeballs nearly dropped from their sockets when I saw this. My first reaction was not good, so I stopped myself and grabbed the camera.  I think I'll get a lot more enjoyment out of this for years to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TOKQADUtsFI/AAAAAAAAADI/TqJZD6cjrcg/s1600/PB130370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TOKQADUtsFI/AAAAAAAAADI/TqJZD6cjrcg/s400/PB130370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540148822185717842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Ummmy corn, Mama." Here is Brandon, living in the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6454078652569493654?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6454078652569493654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/seriously.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6454078652569493654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6454078652569493654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/seriously.html' title='Seriously?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TOKMysZX4oI/AAAAAAAAADA/gI9gAvou_rE/s72-c/PB130373.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5356260205362408849</id><published>2010-11-13T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T07:16:03.285-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>The terrific twos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TN6pqJUFzkI/AAAAAAAAAC4/i0RmWEqbGlA/s1600/P7280111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TN6pqJUFzkI/AAAAAAAAAC4/i0RmWEqbGlA/s400/P7280111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539051133232074306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are officially in the terrific twos. This is my happy place that I am going to imagine when things are going less than terrific. He is in his big boy bed, free to escape at a moment's notice. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And he does.&lt;/span&gt; We are in that training phase of trying to get him to sleep in his bed, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;all night like normal people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;, and then wake at 7:00 am, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;like normal people.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Some days are better than others. Last night wasn't too bad. He went to bed at 8ish. Woke up at 9ish and came out all geared up and goofy. I'm not sure what happened there. I put him to bed again and he says. "Good night Mommy, bye." I'm not sure why I think that is so cute. "Bye," I tell him back.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This morning he awoke at 6:15 sharp. I should be happier with that, but I'm hanging on to the fairy tale. Dream big, right? He laid in bed next to us for about a half hour, holding his breath and then exhaling in a big burst. Why do kids do that? I remember my girls doing that. There is nothing sweeter than the idea of a warm, snuggly child cuddled up in my cozy, incredibly soft bed. They don't breath like the ocean waves rhythmically coming into and out of shore. It is a quiet inhale, an awkward silent holding phase, and then a noisy outburst of air. So not part of my fairy tale. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;He sits up and I pray that he is heading for one of his sister's rooms. When I do eventually arise, I make it to my coffee maker that is unfortunately sitting cold and idle. Brandon peeks up from the couch, taking a momentary break from Miss Spider's Sunnypatch Friends, and asks, "Good sleep, Mommy?" "Yes Brandon," I smile, "I did have a good sleep." He seems so satisfied with this interaction that he now is asking everyone if they have had a good sleep.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a little reminder that we really create these little ones by how we interact with them, day in and day out, the good and the ugly. Apparently, I haven't ruined this one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yet&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5356260205362408849?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5356260205362408849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/terrific-twos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5356260205362408849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5356260205362408849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/terrific-twos.html' title='The terrific twos'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TN6pqJUFzkI/AAAAAAAAAC4/i0RmWEqbGlA/s72-c/P7280111.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-2723129265749893377</id><published>2010-11-10T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T14:05:47.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The meaning behind the madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TNsDyFJFJUI/AAAAAAAAACw/QvPFV25ZOM0/s1600/PA240289.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TNsDyFJFJUI/AAAAAAAAACw/QvPFV25ZOM0/s400/PA240289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538024325690762562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live in a busy household, there is no doubt about that. We all get distracted at times. Sometimes I wonder how things get where they get? The other day my two year old boy was sitting down eating. At least he started off sitting. He really is speaking so much now, he loves to practice his favorites sayings and manners. He also loves to go out on a limb and try new words and phrases. One day, he said out of the blue....”Miss Daddy.” Daddy was at work. So sweet. Anyway, back to my story, he asked for “Cheese please Mommy.” I was shredding some for dinner. I gladly shredded some on his plate. I went back to preparing dinner. I look up and see him sprinkling bits of shredded cheese in the tracks of my windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No Brandon! What are you doing?” Feed flies Mommy. I look in the tracks and I see a random dead fly here and there, next to each one lies a piece of cheese carefully placed. Well I guess that explains that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-2723129265749893377?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/2723129265749893377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/meaning-behind-madness.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2723129265749893377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2723129265749893377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/meaning-behind-madness.html' title='The meaning behind the madness'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TNsDyFJFJUI/AAAAAAAAACw/QvPFV25ZOM0/s72-c/PA240289.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-1593855753125989326</id><published>2010-10-18T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T19:11:12.014-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><title type='text'>Got java?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I was recovering from my 8 year old's sleepover birthday party. I woke up and started my coffee maker. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Let me restate that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;. I woke up and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;attempted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; to start my coffee maker. It was broken. I was flabbergasted. What was I going to do? I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; to have coffee. I almost cried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;But then I thought that cowboys somehow made coffee without a coffee maker. I'm sure I've seen it on TV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;This is what we came up with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: lucida grande;" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TLz6RDXyf7I/AAAAAAAAACo/lReDsozrlSw/s1600/PA170234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TLz6RDXyf7I/AAAAAAAAACo/lReDsozrlSw/s400/PA170234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529569613373931442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;The chop stick contraption nicely held the strainer in place so that we didn't accidentally lose the grounds. I understand that this isn't an ideal outfit here, but desperate times call for desperate measures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Short story: Coffee? Check. Caffeine level achieved? Check. A quick trip to Bed Bath &amp;amp; Beyond set us straight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Phew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; God bless the automatic coffee maker. It is just one less thing&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; Yee-ha&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-1593855753125989326?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/1593855753125989326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/got-java.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1593855753125989326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1593855753125989326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/got-java.html' title='Got java?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TLz6RDXyf7I/AAAAAAAAACo/lReDsozrlSw/s72-c/PA170234.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-4768304177128470203</id><published>2010-10-01T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T08:10:51.847-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healthy living'/><title type='text'>The results are in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I can't believe how fast time is going by. The kids are already scheduling their first quarter parent/teacher conferences. That means two birthdays and Halloween are just around the corner. Which also means that Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the corner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande; font-style: italic;"&gt;Gasp!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Let's pretend I didn't just say that last comment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Okay, back to my results. I had undertaken a new fitness goal beginning Aug. 1st. I measured myself, borrowed a weightlifting book, collected a ton of motivation and began. The first month I really stayed on the workout challenge. I got all the workouts in, both cardio and strength training. I could really feel that my motivation was faltering a bit. I saw definition and tone in my arms. The second month I was working more on the cardio side. I felt burned out on the weights. You see, I was reading a great book, so I wanted to spend my time doing more cardio where I can read at the same time. Then my dear Alison got mycoplasma pneumonia and erythema multiforme and my next week was, shall we say without workout, but with stress which may have the same net effect as actually spending time in the gym.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;While my daughter was being diagnosed (difficult) and then healing (so sad because of the systemic allergic reaction she had to the bacteria that was infecting her), I realized that the little things really are very little. Dishes, laundry, kids' homework didn't cause me anywhere near the stress that they usually evoke. I was just so thankful to have her on the road to recovery. The next week I was completely wiped out, totally exhausted, understandably so. Then, I was back into the swing of things (workout wise) and I did the annual grass preparation. In the desert, you have to shave back, thatch, and rake up your grass before you plant new seed each fall. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Something they don't advertise when they suck you into living here.&lt;/span&gt; Anyway, all that work, and dust and debris in the air, caused me to be super wheezy, so working out was out for the next few days. Now I'm feeling better and I wake up and it is Oct. 1st, my deadline.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Drum roll please.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;My weight was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; the same as August 1st. In my defense, it was a great weigh- in on Aug 1st, I hadn't seen that number for months. It is probably what helped to get me inspired in the first place, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;. My measurements in 7 areas combined today were 9.5 inches fewer than they were on August 1st. I knew I was looking better, but the scale wasn't reflecting any of the positive changes that I was making. So diamonds, not bathroom scales, really are a girl's best friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Where do I go from here? Well, I can see how people &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I)&lt;/span&gt; usually quit when they aren't seeing the results on the scale. I can also understand how people &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I)&lt;/span&gt; get sidetracked as they put out the fires that are unexpectantly cropping up throughout the week, month, and year. And that is okay. Working out is like doing the dishes. It is something that needs to be done &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;most of the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;. It is fine to let it slide when other things become more important, but when it is said and done, you eventually need to get back there and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;"do the dishes."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; You know how much better you'll feel when they are done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-4768304177128470203?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/4768304177128470203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/results-are-in.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/4768304177128470203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/4768304177128470203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/results-are-in.html' title='The results are in...'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-7194155389785603052</id><published>2010-09-05T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T19:45:37.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I’m hooked.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I was having a hard time getting into a new book. It is a best seller and I had waited for a long time. I was number 281 on the hold list at the library. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo&lt;/span&gt; finally became available to check out. I was either falling asleep or just having a hard time processing what I was reading. Well that problem is over. I took the book to the gym and walked for 50 minutes on a steep incline. It seemed like 15 minutes max. I’m happy to say I’m hooked! I imagine that it won’t be hard to find time for cardio over the next week or so. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Good thing I already have the second book on hold. I'm currently at number 108. Who knows how long that will take. I better get back to the gym!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-7194155389785603052?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/7194155389785603052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-hooked.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7194155389785603052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7194155389785603052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-hooked.html' title='I’m hooked.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3202286907983811467</id><published>2010-09-04T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T07:38:32.075-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><title type='text'>The mother of all procrastination.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TIJYB0GYiUI/AAAAAAAAACg/0ln6jccpvzI/s1600/P9030193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TIJYB0GYiUI/AAAAAAAAACg/0ln6jccpvzI/s400/P9030193.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513065682043439426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My label maker is still in the box. I’ve had it for about 7 years. I think my problem is that I don’t want to “label” something until my system is perfect. Who wants to ruin a perfectly good label, right??? Also, I need to learn how to use it. So, to recap, I need to figure out the perfect organizing system, then I need a beautiful storage solution to label, then I need to learn how to use my label maker, then I need to make labels for all the solutions at once. I want to have everything ready and then go from unorganized to labeled in one afternoon. Oh yeah, I forgot, I need one afternoon uninterrupted. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don’t think this is going to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough is enough. This is my epiphany I had earlier this week. How can I be organized if I can’t remember what I store in which container? Once I put something away, I semi-forget about it. So logic would follow that is why I have things out, so I don’t “lose” them. I knew I had a reason for not picking up after myself....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I like myself better already&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I have been looking around for smarter ways to store things that I have. I have thrown away a lot, donated some, and have gotten a lot smarter on what goes where. I had short things stored on high shelves, with tons of wasted space on top of that. My new best friend is an empty diaper box with a plain old hand-written label on it. There is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt; precious about this storage solution. I feel this sense of freedom knowing for sure what is in each box or tote. I’m hooked. Some people “love” their label makers (want mine?), I love an orange Sharpie and any old box.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3202286907983811467?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3202286907983811467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/mother-of-all-procrastination.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3202286907983811467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3202286907983811467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/mother-of-all-procrastination.html' title='The mother of all procrastination.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TIJYB0GYiUI/AAAAAAAAACg/0ln6jccpvzI/s72-c/P9030193.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-1953986180808552176</id><published>2010-09-03T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T15:24:42.036-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><title type='text'>The honeymoon is over.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So the newness of the working out has &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;faded&lt;/span&gt;, shall we say. I’ve made it a whole month. I am still going, but each visit to the gym is a little harder to psyche myself up for. When I get caught up in something new, it takes priority over everything else. Then when the newness wears off, I look around and finally see all the things that I’ve been neglecting. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ooops!&lt;/span&gt; So then my new priority become fixing the symptoms that have cropped up during the latest period of neglect. It’s a cycle of endless catchup-itis. Such is my life. ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The struggle is learning to achieve balance with all my jobs, hobbies, and projects. So my new goal for the gym is 3 times a week. That is close to what I was doing, however, I have to cut the workout to 1 hour maximum. Too many things suffer when I spend longer than that amount of time. This will free up more time to blog, declutter and organize. I will lose more inches in the long term if I stay on the plan, than if I give it my all for 6 weeks and then dropout completely. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So that is where I am. Working out is a lifestyle not a short-term obsession. It is just something that needs to be done, so that a long healthy life is ahead of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-1953986180808552176?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/1953986180808552176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/honeymoon-is-over.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1953986180808552176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1953986180808552176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/honeymoon-is-over.html' title='The honeymoon is over.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3300745547615271364</id><published>2010-08-23T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T14:01:30.726-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healthy living'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><title type='text'>All I see is love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLdQv0bpWI/AAAAAAAAACQ/wfIt5B5CX5s/s1600/P8230190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLdQv0bpWI/AAAAAAAAACQ/wfIt5B5CX5s/s400/P8230190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508708574011565410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLc9iRvWvI/AAAAAAAAACI/bDrlSHlIoCg/s1600/P8230189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLc9iRvWvI/AAAAAAAAACI/bDrlSHlIoCg/s400/P8230189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508708243958881010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLcpwq_btI/AAAAAAAAACA/ijFnX7OWyL0/s1600/P8230188.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLcpwq_btI/AAAAAAAAACA/ijFnX7OWyL0/s400/P8230188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508707904225504978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLcIBE_ewI/AAAAAAAAAB4/gqWg8hW0k7A/s1600/P8210186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLcIBE_ewI/AAAAAAAAAB4/gqWg8hW0k7A/s400/P8210186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508707324513975042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Well, one thing is for sure, working out at the gym is eating up my blog time. So is organizing my life. My waistline and refrigerator are thanking me. I have managed to make 10 cardio and 10 weight training sessions so far this month. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Go me.&lt;/span&gt; Making it to the gym today was critical. I hadn’t been there for two days. I am still completely sore from Friday and I had stomach aches, etc. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wah, wah, wah.&lt;/span&gt; I was not in the mood. I managed to get myself there and I am so happy I did. I did take some measurements this weekend, and I am happy to report that a few inches have been lost. You will have to wait and see for Oct. 1st. I have gained a pound, hopefully, of pure powerful calorie-burning muscle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the refrigerator goes...I completely took it apart and cleaned the heck out of it. It is gleaming inside. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My lovely neighbor picked up and delivered a fruit and veggie basket purchased coop style for me. As much as I like a bargain, I have my limits. 7 am, on Saturdays, is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; for being productive. God bless Steve and Denise!!! See picture of produce above. I had this, plus another 24 ears of corn to put away. After shucking, cooking, cutting and freezing 24 ears of corn. I had a big mess plus the produce shown above to deal with. In typical Lauri style, I decided to empty the fridge and clean it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at that moment.&lt;/span&gt; My kids were worried for me. My husband was hopeful. My kitchen, once again, is happy and clean (it doesn't happen often.) I even managed to hit the corner in my kitchen where paper clutter and odds and ends go to die a slow painful death. I love that a photograph captures only the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt;, and not the baggage that I carry with me whenever I think of my kitchen. It is definitely a love/ hate relationship I have with the heart of my home. All I can see here is L-O-V-E!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3300745547615271364?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3300745547615271364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/all-i-see-is-love.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3300745547615271364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3300745547615271364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/all-i-see-is-love.html' title='All I see is love.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/THLdQv0bpWI/AAAAAAAAACQ/wfIt5B5CX5s/s72-c/P8230190.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6846276626384869848</id><published>2010-08-12T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T07:26:54.522-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Room Redo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQD764yNZI/AAAAAAAAABw/rbM1KBgueR8/s1600/P8120178.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/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQD764yNZI/AAAAAAAAABw/rbM1KBgueR8/s320/P8120178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504528972508181906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQDkSNQ8BI/AAAAAAAAABo/eXnA9qYYuow/s1600/P8120177.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/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQDkSNQ8BI/AAAAAAAAABo/eXnA9qYYuow/s320/P8120177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504528566451236882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQDF_hIi4I/AAAAAAAAABg/7R-FgNZBQsw/s1600/P8120176.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/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQDF_hIi4I/AAAAAAAAABg/7R-FgNZBQsw/s320/P8120176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504528046038223746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQCnpyb0sI/AAAAAAAAABY/cAqGWkfHkGA/s1600/P8120175.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/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQCnpyb0sI/AAAAAAAAABY/cAqGWkfHkGA/s320/P8120175.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504527524809134786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Yesterday was a perfect day, well, pretty close anyway. I dropped the girls at the bus stop, we said our good byes, and then Brandon and I found some &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good buys&lt;/span&gt; at Kohl’s. I was armed with good sales, the promise of an extra 30% off on top of the sales, and a $10 off coupon good towards kids clothes. And, to top it off, my little guy was the best little shopper. What a gift! The short story is that my soon-to-be 8 year old's bedroom is gorgeous. I picked up a few items to give it a fun, fresh, organized look. I came home, cleaned, organized and set up Alison’s room in a record two and a half hours. Brandon slept the whole time. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;See&lt;/span&gt;....I told you it was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This morning, however, it is back to reality. I am missing my morning gym session due to the fact that my oldest woke up, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;throwing up&lt;/span&gt;. It is my fault, really. Yesterday morning, she said to me optimistically, “I’m not going to miss any days of school this year.” I should have knocked on wood. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gym update: I have completed 5 strength training and 5 cardio sessions. I’m on track for my goal of 13 this month. I also think I am seeing a little bit of definition in my shoulder muscles. One way or the other, I will be working out today. It will either be a home workout or one that I do after dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6846276626384869848?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6846276626384869848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/room-redo.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6846276626384869848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6846276626384869848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/room-redo.html' title='Room Redo'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TGQD764yNZI/AAAAAAAAABw/rbM1KBgueR8/s72-c/P8120178.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5438496485959319032</id><published>2010-08-07T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T10:26:06.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Champagne Suffering</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Have you ever heard of the term? It refers to complaints that many of us have. Sore muscles from voluntary weight training, not enough “me time,” busy school schedules, a cluttered home are a few that come to mind. I know for a fact that many people would love to just have these types of troubles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I have a friend, who I met while volunteering at my children’s school, that is fighting GBM Grade IV. It is a terrible form of brain cancer. You can learn more about it at www.faithforcathy.com. She is supported by prayer, donations, cutting edge medicine, doctors, friends, family and God. Her story is a constant reminder to me that we must refocus on the good and wonderful in our lives. Each day is a gift and the gift should be mindfully experienced everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Thank you, Cathy, for reminding me to love and be grateful for each day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5438496485959319032?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5438496485959319032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/champagne-suffering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5438496485959319032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5438496485959319032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/champagne-suffering.html' title='Champagne Suffering'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-1870757031123062779</id><published>2010-08-03T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T21:34:58.212-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healthy living'/><title type='text'>Game on.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Things are finally getting back into order around here after our vacations. School starts this Monday. I can hardly believe that our summer break is over. I knew it would go fast. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I thought I’d share with you an alarming statistic that I read recently. Beginning at age 35, women start losing about 1% of muscle mass per year. Muscle burns more calories than fat, so if we are more “fat” than we used to be, we aren’t burning as many calories as we did when we were younger. I’ve been noticing that it is harder to lose weight, and harder to even maintain an even weight. I also see that my body composition is not what I would like it to be, meaning I look like I’ve had 3 kids. I’m going to be proactive and try to stop this nasty tendency its tracks. I’m taking on the mission of gaining muscle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;My first goal is to have 13 total body weight training sessions and 10 cardio sessions this month. I started on August 1st. So far I’ve done 2 of each. By October 1st, I have goals of losing inches on specific areas. I won’t scare you with the details. I will, however, share the totals lost on October 1st. I’m not going to be concerned with the scale because muscle weighs a lot, so my weight might not change much at first. Over time, the muscle will help burn off the fat eventually. I'm practicing delayed gratification.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I have been totally blown away by a friend who recently completely changed her body through diet and exercise. She even won 1st place in bikini in a big body building competition. She is a mom of two and was competing against 19 year-olds. The change was inspiring. That being said, I hope that by telling you all of my plans of transformation, it may help me stick with my plans. I’ve been know to completely forget about goals. It will be harder to forget it now that I’ve told you all. Wish me luck.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-1870757031123062779?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/1870757031123062779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/game-on.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1870757031123062779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1870757031123062779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/08/game-on.html' title='Game on.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6293012254561634321</id><published>2010-07-31T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T07:54:49.720-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><title type='text'>How low can you go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I am referring to my online order total. One of the reasons that I’m happy to be home from our summer vacations is that I can dabble in my love for shopping online. Another secret &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;revealed&lt;/span&gt;. I love to find a good deal, and then I love to make it even sweeter. Here is an amazing frugal tip that I was surprised to learn is unknown by many savvy shoppers. There is a website called www.retailmenot.com  that allows you to often find additional discounts that can be applied to your order total in the form of a promo code, or coupon code. There are many other sites as well, but I always start with that site. Not every online store has discount codes, but it is worth looking into. I h-a-t-e paying for shipping, and these discounts will often save you that cost. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I am a stay at home mom, and I make no income, z-e-r-o, since I have made the choice to be home. I find that shopping wisely is my way of contributing to the family. I’ll share more of these tips in the future. When I do place an order, it is usually for merchandise that is about 50-75% off retail prices. Additionally, I often have a coupon that has a set dollar amount off when you spend a certain amount. For example, $25 off a $50 purchase. If not, I use a coupon code as described above. I rarely pay shipping. It is a rush for me to get things for such a great price. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Sometimes it doesn’t go so well, and I am robbed of the warm rush of retail therapy. Here is a specific instance that happened several months ago. The day started like any other day. I was checking email with my morning coffee at hand. I opened a “70% off” email from one of my favorite stores. I went to the site, very happy to see lovely things at such a great discount. I filled my cart with some pleasing choices. Unfortunately, I had no coupon to use, so I scoured the internet for additional discounts that could be applied. Hmmmm. No luck there. I tried a few expired coupon codes, okay &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;many&lt;/span&gt;, and I kept striking out. This particular store always has a great coupon that accompanies great sales, but nothing could be found. I couldn’t pull the trigger on this order. The deal was not sweet enough. All of a sudden, a pop-up type box appears that reads, “Upon leaving please fill out this survey.” &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What?????&lt;/span&gt; I was just electronically escorted from the store. Hey, I’m taking this personal. How did I get this frugal? I’m blaming it on my parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6293012254561634321?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6293012254561634321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-low-can-you-go.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6293012254561634321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6293012254561634321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-low-can-you-go.html' title='How low can you go?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-2573419745345474938</id><published>2010-07-30T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T23:06:11.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><title type='text'>There's no place like home.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I’m back again. Our family had a wonderful time in San Diego, CA. We were busy catching up with family and hitting Seaworld and the Zoo. We gave Seaworld a run for it’s money. We arrived at our destination of Seaworld after our six hour drive, at 1:45 pm. We left the park at 10:00 pm. We had one man down, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sleeping on my shoulder&lt;/span&gt;, and two girls begging to check into our hotel. The zoo, however, kicked our butts! It was definitely the most gorgeous zoo I’ve ever seen, but it was also very confusing. The maps didn’t offer much help. There was a lot of severe uphill and downhill hiking going on. They had signs saying that wheelchairs and strollers were not permitted in some of these areas. Thanks for the warning. I saw my first koala bears, they were adorable. We also spent our last hour there tracking down the panda exhibit. I figured that we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; to see the pandas. We finally made it. It was chomping on bamboo and sitting very peacefully. I discovered that we were actually lucky to have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seen&lt;/span&gt; the panda. Apparently, they sleep a lot in private dens. The mere thought of finally finding the exhibit and then being unable to view the furry creature would have sent me over the edge. I’m glad we got to see the panda, to say the least. We were pooped when we returned to our hotel. Unfortunately, that afternoon was the one that my boy decided that he wouldn’t partake in his customary nap. My family witnessed a tantrum, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mine&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I’m glad to be back in my somewhat stinky home. The stench of a wet load of forgotten laundry in the washer greeted our arrival. I also forgot to toss the once &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very ripe&lt;/span&gt; bananas. Did you know that bananas ooze bubbles after they pass the “banana bread” ripeness factor? Now you know. I’m also very happy to have my clutter dispersed over a 2900 square foot area, as opposed to our little hotel room and suv. It is much less disturbing in its diluted state.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-2573419745345474938?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/2573419745345474938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/theres-no-place-like-home.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2573419745345474938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2573419745345474938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/theres-no-place-like-home.html' title='There&apos;s no place like home.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3991925131454459428</id><published>2010-07-22T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T21:37:20.122-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>It's Christmas in July.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TEkbNjPpbKI/AAAAAAAAABQ/U0xTJO5lDpY/s1600/PB030041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TEkbNjPpbKI/AAAAAAAAABQ/U0xTJO5lDpY/s400/PB030041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496954739795520674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice day today. I had the annual appointment that we ladies look forward to so much. This time, however, my office offered a complimentary facial immediately following. I was game for that generous offer. It was wonderful, the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;facial &lt;/span&gt;that is. I felt so pampered. I’m not one to have a whole lot done for me. I do my own nails, my pool, my yard, my house cleaning. I’ve even cut my hair for about 13 years. I now actually have someone cut it for me. Don’t get me wrong, my husband helps with the yard and pool, but I’m seriously putting in effort in these areas as well. And when I say I do my house cleaning, I mean I’m not paying anyone else to do it. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was so glad that I had shopped for school supplies before the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;blessed&lt;/span&gt; facial because I truly felt “too good” for back to school supply shopping. I can see how taking care of ourselves can really make us better, I mean&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; nicer,&lt;/span&gt; moms. It takes the edge off. You know what else takes the edge off? A breeze accompanied by a 20 degree drop in temperature in an hour or so, in the desert, in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;July&lt;/span&gt;. My husband was able to wax the car, the girls made up a dance routine, and our boy played hockey in the driveway. We also were able to swim in a pool that was 5 degrees warmer than the air. That is always a delightful experience. &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say today was a memorable gift, filled with pampering, retail therapy, a gorgeous sunset and I currently have possession of the TV remote control for the first time in about two weeks. Somebody pinch me. I’m not sure it gets any better than this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3991925131454459428?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3991925131454459428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-christmas-in-july.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3991925131454459428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3991925131454459428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-christmas-in-july.html' title='It&apos;s Christmas in July.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TEkbNjPpbKI/AAAAAAAAABQ/U0xTJO5lDpY/s72-c/PB030041.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5411054451574934873</id><published>2010-07-21T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T06:37:19.985-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><title type='text'>It was worth it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Sometimes we have to experience the truly awful to understand and appreciate the wonderful things. About two weeks ago, while glancing out the kitchen widow, I saw it. It was the baby bunny, maybe the one that we rescued from the jaws of a thieving snake a few weeks earlier. (That story is blogged in June 2010, under &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You’ve got to be kidding me.&lt;/span&gt;) The bunny was about the size of a large kiwi fruit and it was frolicking about. The kids and I, all got to go out and watch it up close. My boy was giggling, the girls were “awwwing.” If we hadn’t gone through that heinous experience, I wouldn’t have been looking for it and we would have missed the magic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;The morning after we arrived home from the airport, I was able to see the darling little guy again, hopping around our little grassy area. The wonderful sight was welcome considering we had just dealt with two more unsuccessful bunny events. Actually, our amazing, pool-watching neighbors handled one bunny loss (thank you) and we cleaned up the other. I can’t even go into the details of our clean up effort. UGH!!! It was the worst situation imaginable. It is just another reminder to keep your eyes open and be observant so you don’t miss the magic. It is there. And it will recharge you so that you can make it through the next &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“bunny loss.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5411054451574934873?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5411054451574934873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-was-worth-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5411054451574934873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5411054451574934873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-was-worth-it.html' title='It was worth it!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-155796377824134726</id><published>2010-07-19T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T06:40:17.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><title type='text'>We're back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I’m sporting 43 flaming red mosquito bites as a result of my encounter with Wisconsin. I’m highly allergic to insect, spider, and ant bites. It is just another interesting fact about me.  On our way to the small airport from which we flew home, we stopped at an amusement park that I used to enjoy as a child. I don’t quite remember the ferris wheel being so scary. As I was waiting for our girls to slide down the huge slide attraction, the biggest mosquito I had ever seen landed on our little boy’s head. The mosquito was so big, it had it’s own zip code. I scared it away with my overreaction. Then, I was bit by one of these gargantuan creatures, possibly the same offender.  Let me tell you, I was done. I wanted to go home &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt;.  I regained my composure in order to attempt one final ride. We chose a train ride. Things were going great, that is until the downpour happened. Yep, there we were, ready to depart for home, sitting on a train in a downpour. It happens, what are you going to do? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The short story is that Wisconsin won, and was successful in its mission of sending us back where we came from. I can take a hint! We had a great time seeing everyone on our 10 day adventure, despite my mosquito issues. We are very happy to be home. The desert welcomed our midnight arrival with 105 degree open arms. We also brought with us a few raindrops as our plane was waiting to unload at the gate, but they quickly subsided. Apparently Wisconsin has its limits. So, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;na-na-nah-boo-boo&lt;/span&gt; Wisconsin, you can’t get me here in Arizona.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-155796377824134726?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/155796377824134726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/were-back.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/155796377824134726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/155796377824134726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/were-back.html' title='We&apos;re back!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6132275777841073212</id><published>2010-07-12T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T06:40:55.185-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><title type='text'>Life's a beach.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I’m on vacation. You didn’t think I was going to post daily, did you? I woke up early today, enjoying my coffee, music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;and the view of bushy black squirrels, chipmunks and some unfamiliar birds, all congregating on the wood’s edge, competing for the birdfeeder’s bounty. I am reading my sister’s book, Quiet Mind, One Minute Retreats from a Busy World, by David Kundtz.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In the first chapter, we are encouraged to pick our life’s metaphor. Apparently, rat race was taken, and it was the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; answer anyway. This is what I picked. Life is a stroll on a beach. It is all a matter of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;where,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; on the beach, you are walking. Let me explain. Living in balance is like walking at the water’s edge, where the sand is packed and cool, it is both effortless and pleasure full. Where are you walking? Are you shuffling deep in the loose hot sand, stepping on sharp shells, maybe stumbling at times? Are you trudging ankle-deep in the water? It takes extra effort to get to the same destination. Algae and debris can get caught under your step. Occasionally you may be stung by a jellyfish. Maybe you are worried about some looming unseen danger hidden in the water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; imagine that life can be the vacation beach stroll, where we are free to be human &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;beings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; and not human &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;doings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. I recently read that eloquent human “doing” idea somewhere, unfortunately, I can’t remember whose lovely aunt said it. It is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; choice where and how I walk. I’m aiming for the cool, damp sand where the water rhythmically refreshes me along my chosen path. Why don’t you join me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6132275777841073212?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6132275777841073212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/lifes-beach.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6132275777841073212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6132275777841073212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/lifes-beach.html' title='Life&apos;s a beach.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-1805284483093685115</id><published>2010-07-08T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T07:32:52.844-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>I’ve got a new helper.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I’ve raised my kids to be pretty self-sufficient around the kitchen, well sort of. It &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; works out well. The girls have been making their own breakfasts for years. Our kid friendly dishes are stored in a low cabinet for them to access with ease. Like many families, we work our dishwasher hard. At least once a day, we run it. I’ve gotten to the point that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loathe&lt;/span&gt; loading and unloading it. It is just too much sometimes. I want to hide in the corner and rock.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Or,&lt;/span&gt; I can have my kids unload it, and then I can carry about my day like a normal person. That its until my third child has begun helping. I didn’t mind thinking of him unloading his cups and bowls. How cute, I thought. He is going to grow up to be a real catch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Well, I just witnessed him helping. And I feel like I could use an adult beverage. It is 5:00 somewhere, right? He was super motivated and loving his new role as a kitchen crew member. He was pulling my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;china&lt;/span&gt; dinner plates out of the dishwasher rack and heading toward the granite counter top with them in tow. The girls didn’t seem very surprised at this sight. Well, I’ve now explained the rules on “to what degree” a toddler can help and I think I may have to stick around just to make sure my guidelines are followed. Maybe I should just unload it myself. I don’t like where this is going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-1805284483093685115?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/1805284483093685115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/ive-got-new-helper.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1805284483093685115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/1805284483093685115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/ive-got-new-helper.html' title='I’ve got a new helper.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-9199052519689110780</id><published>2010-07-07T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T07:35:18.420-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><title type='text'>Waste not, want not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;We are coming down to the wire. The departure date is right around the corner. You know what that means. It means that we are having some strange meals. Lunch is served. You will be enjoying a leftover tropical chicken and rice hot dish. It is accompanied with a cooked egg and watermelon. For dessert, a piece of banana bread. Can I bring you some more watermelon or another egg?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Today I decided to make an appointment for my boy. He has been congested for a month. Mother of the Year, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I know, I know&lt;/span&gt;. Seriously, he’s been happy, eating, sleeping, playing hockey, scaling tall buildings, etc. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a sinus or ear infection. No one needs a male toddler, sporting an ear infection, sitting next to you on a plane. His ears have always checked out fine on these appointments. This was not the case today. He has an ear infection in his right ear. She said it was probably slowly building up and he would have become miserable soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;We live in an amazing country where we can call and get a same day appointment, drop off and pick up a prescription, and shop for anything we may need in a matter of a couple hours. Granted, they  were a couple of hours I didn’t have to spare, but non-the-less, still a fantastic place to call home. The problem is that I couldn’t refuse the $.88 strawberries. So now I have two more quarts of produce that I have to get in the bellies of my crew. I can only imagine that our last remaining meals will become a little more creative, shall we say. One thing for sure, we will be exceeding the RDA in vitamin C.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-9199052519689110780?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/9199052519689110780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/waste-not-want-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/9199052519689110780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/9199052519689110780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/waste-not-want-not.html' title='Waste not, want not.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6675253422835746722</id><published>2010-07-06T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T08:10:20.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still learning.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Unfortunately, I'm still learning how to use the blog website. I thought I had it figured out. That was not the case. I published a draft this morning, that was originally written on July 4th. I thought that the day I published it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;today&lt;/span&gt;, would be the day it would show up for you all. This was not the case. Point noted. I'm not going to do that again, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;infamous words for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;If you would like to read today's post, please find it under the July 4th entry, called Amazing frugal tip!!! Enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6675253422835746722?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6675253422835746722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-still-learning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6675253422835746722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6675253422835746722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-still-learning.html' title='I&apos;m still learning.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-4051114737086175158</id><published>2010-07-05T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T15:45:51.837-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>Back up.</title><content type='html'>I’ve often wondered why we waited so long to have our third child. There is quite a gap there. I figured it was because we got a puppy when my second child was 2 ½. The puppy likely served as our third. Occasionally we would have discussions of more kids, but I was always able to convince my husband that the cons outweighed the pros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rewind back to January 2008. Unfortunately, my husband’s grandma had been ill and made her passing. My husband made the trek back to Indiana on his own. He spent the few days with a huge extended family. Parents, aunts, uncles, cousins galore, in fact I believe the count was 22 grandchildren and 44 great grandchildren! He made his way back to us, only to jump in the car and drive to Disneyland the next day. We had a family vacation planned before Grandma’s passing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were packing the car up that same night. He said very matter-of-factly, “I think I made my decision.” I stopped loading. Hair stood up on my neck. I have the uncanny ability to know what my husband is going to say by the tone of his voice, after the first two words have been spoken. I have to fight an intense urge not to finish all of his sentences. Trust me on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our girls were then 7 and 5. I felt like I was home free. No diapers, soon to be no car seats. I had kids that listened. My world was rocking, big time. I sat in silence for part of the trip. I felt as an attorney may feel, planning the closing arguments. Let's just say, the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;con&lt;/span&gt; list overfloweth. I subscribe to a monthly publication called Daily Word. It has uplifting words for living. I opened the booklet to January 19th, and read. “I am healthy and wise, at peace, and open to my good. Let go, let God.” It continued and spoke directly to my soul. I was 35, and I had previously considered myself to be past that&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; season&lt;/span&gt;. Short story is that I was willing to let go and let God, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for one month&lt;/span&gt;, after my first mammogram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d like to bring us back to last night, July 4th! We were at a restaurant with the kids prior to watching the fireworks. My boy was running around on the dance floor of the cowboy-themed restaurant, complete with peanut shells discarded on the floor. The girls had already eaten their meals, he had already refused his. It was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; turn to enjoy our entrees. It came to me. The reason we waited so long, was that we needed &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;back up&lt;/span&gt;. The girls are 10 and 7 and are always on call as back up for our little fire ball. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God bless them&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-4051114737086175158?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/4051114737086175158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/back-up.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/4051114737086175158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/4051114737086175158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/back-up.html' title='Back up.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-7297955648280501990</id><published>2010-07-04T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T08:00:45.417-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><title type='text'>Amazing frugal tip!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="lucida grande"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="lucida grande"&gt;I’m sure most of you use both sides of your swiffer sheets. If you don’t, you should start. They work just as well on the “wrong” side. Here comes the amazing tip. After both sides are really dirty, for me that means it looks like we just got a new puppy, use the swiffer sheet on your garage floor. I can’t believe I never thought of it before. I’m so excited. Next dirty swiffer sheet is going to take a spin on my covered patio. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="lucida grande"&gt;I guess this is so exciting because I would never use a new swiffer sheet on the garage floor or patio. I mean they are “outside” and are supposed to be dirty. I told this idea  to my husband and oldest daughter. They seem to be missing something. They keep waiting for a punchline or something. Try this tip, I promise, you will like it.&lt;/font&gt;&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/7722085233883336886-7297955648280501990?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/7297955648280501990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/amazing-frugal-tip.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7297955648280501990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7297955648280501990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/amazing-frugal-tip.html' title='Amazing frugal tip!!!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3616625952256677924</id><published>2010-07-04T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T08:07:16.111-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Time out.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;So, this is seriously funny. Don’t hate me. Let me have this moment of glory. I know it won’t last. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;My little guy is just dipping his feet into the time-out phase of his life. Time-outs are our first line of defense regarding discipline. Okay, they are the third. First we ignore, then we think “Hey, this kid is getting out of hand,” then we remember the blessed time-out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;As you know, if you’ve been reading here, our little guy is a climber. He looks proudly at us from each challenge he conquers. He acts like he has no clue that we mean business. We’ve gently introduced him to his time-out spot. No counting 1,2, 3 for him. When we come to an impasse (he climbs something and won’t get down after we ask 5 times or so), we say, “Okay I think you need a time-out.” He eagerly climbs down and sits in his designated time-out spot. We set the timer for a minute. He quietly looks up at us with the sweetest little face and waits. The timer goes off. We tell him to get up. He comes to us with kisses and hugs. Here is the best part, he forgets what he was doing to get into the time-out in the first place.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;My girls think he is the most adorable thing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; as he serves his time. We are all careful not to let him know our feelings, until after the timer rings. We all wait patiently for our kisses. I think it is our favorite time of the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3616625952256677924?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3616625952256677924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-out.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3616625952256677924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3616625952256677924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-out.html' title='Time out.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-7435189663324927889</id><published>2010-07-03T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T21:03:39.411-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Time flies.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Recently, my 10 year old was going through her big box of artwork and memorabilia that is stored under her bed. She was tearful about how cute she used to be and how old she was now. I asked her to imagine how old I felt, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;having&lt;/span&gt; a 10 year old. I told her about how I can remember back when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; was in kindergarten. She seemed impressed. I guess it is similar to when my mom said to me, “Talk to me when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; baby turns 40!.” Of course, she wasn’t referring to me. It is official, when looking back, no matter your age, time really does fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Having a little boy is quite different than how I remember things being when the girls were little. He wakes up, yelling and pointing with amazement “Ball! Vroom, vroom! Hockey!” He goes to bed, yelling “Moon! Dog! Ball!” Did I mention the climbing? We were watching a very girlie movie tonight. A field of flowers, where fairies live, is about to be destroyed by a bunch of big tractors and trucks. My boy’s eyes opened wide at the sight of the construction vehicles. “Wow,” he said in awe. The movie just became worth watching! Let’s just say that he has a passion for life. He is on the go and he loves life! We need to remember our passions that really light our fire, and not let the daily grind snuff out all sparks. You know, the endless laundry loads, the dishwasher full of clean dishes while the sink is full of dirty dishes, the dust bunny reunion in the back hall, please tell me I don’t need to continue. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Looking back 10, 20, 50 years down the road, hopefully we will look back and have so many unique experiences and memories. I hope that dishes and laundry do not make the cut into the Top 100 Exciting Moments of My Life. This blog is sure to remind me that there is life outside of chores and duties. I am blessed to have the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of those around me. I better get cracking, time is ticking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-7435189663324927889?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/7435189663324927889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-flies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7435189663324927889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7435189663324927889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-flies.html' title='Time flies.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5572349321007847805</id><published>2010-07-02T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T07:27:46.140-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Muscle memory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Last night was like any other night. I read bedtime stories to my little boy. He mooched a few more out of me. Then, I finally put my foot down. “Good night Boo Boo, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite you,” I say quietly. I put him in his crib, gave him his “two dogs” that he requests, and then turned on his music. I slipped out the door and breathed a sigh of relief. I get some &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; time at the computer. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Goodie, goodie. &lt;/span&gt;A few minutes later, my boy comes running out of his room with a wild  look on his face. It happened. He just climbed out of his crib for the first time in his life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Stunned, I tell my husband the news. “Good job, buddy! He’s a boy,” he proudly informs me. That was not my first response. He is 20 months old. I have no place to put him anymore where I know he will be safe. I’m in shock. I’m not sure how I’m going to deal with this. After the shock wears off, I attempt to put him back to bed. He willingly goes with me and cuddles up to his fuzzy blanket and dogs, as usual. As soon as I leave the room, he stands up and effortlessly scales the crib, dismounting with ease. He appears in front of me with the same wild expression.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;In yoga class, the teacher explained to me that we are building muscle memory when we stay in difficult poses for long periods of time. Next time, the same pose will take a little less effort. Apparently, in male toddlers, the rate at which muscle &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;remembers&lt;/span&gt; is accelerated. My boy is a prodigy, hence his father’s pride.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It took about 4 attempts of putting him back to bed, and a firm order to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lay down&lt;/span&gt;,  for it to finally stick. I’m not willing to give up on the 4-sided enclosure yet. Morning, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thank you God&lt;/span&gt;, went fine.  He was awake at 6:00 am and contentedly babbling until 7:00. Phew! I was worried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5572349321007847805?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5572349321007847805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/muscle-memory.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5572349321007847805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5572349321007847805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/muscle-memory.html' title='Muscle memory.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-2885780642016384547</id><published>2010-07-01T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T06:17:57.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frugality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><title type='text'>How early is too early?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;This is a question that I occasionally ponder. I’ve been known, once or twice in slow years, to decorate for Christmas &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt; Thanksgiving. Shhhh. Shh. Quiet down, people! I haven’t had this conundrum for some time, due to the addition of our third child. It is such a double standard that the stores flaunt their trees before we say “Trick or Treat....Thank You...Happy Halloween.” Seriously, if you’re not having anyone over for Thanksgiving, it’s a victimless crime. And if you are, just don’t turn &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on&lt;/span&gt; the Christmas lights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I present this question in light of packing for vacation. The intensity of my love for “early” packing is matched only by that of my hatred for unpacking. With the pull-back in the economy and the introduction of fees for checked bags, my propensity for early packing has been intensified. I believe that with all the laundry that I have to process for a family of 5, coupled with the fact that we have soooooooo many clothes, a week early probably wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. If only I could wait that long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Each and every item has been scrutinized, washed, folded, and in some cases &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ironed&lt;/span&gt;. My 7 year old recently asked, “What is that called?” “Honey, that is an ironing board,” I whispered. I’m not expecting a nomination for Mother of the Year for that one. This year on our 10 day family trip, we are not checking bags. Our toddler flies free as a lap child &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(pray for me)&lt;/span&gt;, so we all have to absorb his belongings. I love a good challenge. I don’t watch Survivor on TV, but I imagine this is what it is like. It is all about strategy. My 10 year old is buckling down to finish the fourth Harry Potter book. She knows she can’t bring &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;two&lt;/span&gt; Harry Potter books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Anyone who has ever moved knows that when it comes down to the wire, moving day, and you think you have only about an hour of work left, in reality it is about 6-12 hours of stress-filled chaos. I guess I’m compensating for that last hellish hour. I’m not crazy. It is a form of self-love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-2885780642016384547?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/2885780642016384547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-early-is-too-early.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2885780642016384547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/2885780642016384547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-early-is-too-early.html' title='How early is too early?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-8719994223500461252</id><published>2010-06-30T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T14:48:26.350-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><title type='text'>Why organize?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;We have heard so many reasons to get organized. No one told me the number one reason why we should have our garage in tip-top shape. I had to learn it myself. The good thing is that I’m going to tell you. If you have ever had trouble pulling the trigger on whether or not to purge a specific item, I’m going to give you the key to unlocking your ability to fire at will. Here is my story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My husband needs to print an important document. We are out of paper. Well, not really out, but the paper cubby is empty. I knew we were running low a while ago. That is why I bought another ream. I am the GM of this home, and I’m highly efficient at this role. Being a very informed GM, I also knew that I couldn’t find the ream. I had already looked for it, twice. I’m not looking good here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Do you know that wonderful saying? Everything must have a place and everything must be in place? Well, that is true porn for women. I’m drooling of an image in my mind. You know the image in every home decor magazine, or heck, in every coupon mailer for closet solutions or cleaning companies. The mail is constantly bringing this trash into our home. You can’t think this literature doesn’t affect my self image. I hear my self talk, “If only my granite counters were shiny and crumb-free.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I sometimes get creative with where I store extra supplies. We have a garage with lots of storage shelving. We also live in the desert, so I have to make sure whatever is stored in the garage can handle it. Six months of the year, we can store magma in its molten state. I just knew that a ream of paper could handle this fate. So, I’m out scouring the garage, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt;. I’m really hoping that the third time is a charm. Charming? No. I’m out, barefoot in the inferno (it’s 105 degrees here), when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a snake. My problem is no longer a missing ream, but a four-foot intruder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I have quite of few things &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;by the garbage can&lt;/span&gt;. My newly retired gym shoes, some really great empty boxes, a collection of useful cardboard wrapping paper tubes, etc. I’ve got some stuff out there that I couldn’t commit to tossing, on account of them being &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;perfectly good&lt;/span&gt;. So here are the answers for which you’ve been waiting. You keep a tidy garage because someday, a snake may find its way in it. You toss your crap because it may help the snake get out quickly. I’m sure we are all in agreement here. Just imagine yourself in my shoes, okay bare feet, and think to yourself, do I want this stuff or do I want the snake gone? I hope this helps. I’m a changed woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My husband, with his trusty hockey stick, expertly encouraged the snake to rethink his current living situation. No snakes were harmed in this story. Always keep a tidy garage for optimal snake preparedness, and CLOSE THE GARAGE DOOR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-8719994223500461252?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/8719994223500461252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-organize.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8719994223500461252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8719994223500461252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-organize.html' title='Why organize?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-6799724217207676647</id><published>2010-06-29T05:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T09:05:44.814-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stories'/><title type='text'>You have got to be kidding me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TCnv9Ybr4zI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wWxSPA8jfE8/s1600/P6270518.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/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TCnv9Ybr4zI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wWxSPA8jfE8/s320/P6270518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488181458737292082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This is going to be hard for a few of you to read, Mom and Jay, you know who you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So, my 7 year old wants to go swimming. It is 6:30 pm. Dinner was served, eaten, and has been half cleaned up. My toddler says, “Wimming.,” and points to the door.  Two against one. We get suited-up and swim.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Background information: we have a momma rabbit and babies in our gated  pool area. We are diligent to keep our dog out of the pool area for the time being. Let’s just say  that in the past we’ve had a situation involving the dog and a nest full of baby bunnies that did not end well. We have a dharma to play out. That being said, we love the idea of these precious little bunnies growing safely in our yard.    &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Now back to my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is well in the pool. Then, I hear it. That familiar noise of a screaming baby bunny. I think, oh....the momma must be back, and the babies must be happy to see her. This is not the case. I hear the scream getting louder and louder. How strange, I’m thinking. I’m looking over at the nest area, hidden under a swinging bench. Then, I see it. A snake is dragging a baby bunny away from the nest. I don’t want to be too graphic, on account of me being scarred for life and I don’t think it is necessary for you to be as well. It is not looking good. The bunny is a little bigger than my thumb and the snake is about as thick as my pinky finger and about 2 and a half feet long. My 7 year old is pleading to go in the house because she can’t take it anymore. I want a shovel. A good friend said it best, “The circle of life ends with screaming baby bunnies.” I couldn’t have agreed with her more. I go in to get a shovel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and my husband&lt;/span&gt;.  We head back out and the snake is gone. We can still hear the baby crying. Unbelievably, we find it in a dense bush and use a trusty hockey stick to pick it up and return the baby home to its burrow.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back at the bigger picture, I am able to see that the snake is just trying to grow big and strong to have a family of his own. Blah, blah, blah, whatever. This morning the momma and I saw eye-to-eye, through the kitchen window, over a sink of bottomless dishes. I’ve got your back, momma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TCnv9Ybr4zI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wWxSPA8jfE8/s1600/P6270518.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-6799724217207676647?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/6799724217207676647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6799724217207676647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/6799724217207676647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me.html' title='You have got to be kidding me.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TCnv9Ybr4zI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wWxSPA8jfE8/s72-c/P6270518.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-8452071949471090523</id><published>2010-06-28T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T09:07:08.006-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>It could be worse.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This is borderline positive-thinking for parents. It doesn’t sound positive, but sometimes it is all I can muster. Here are a few examples from this past Saturday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I get the unexpected 8 am call from the neighbors. “Did you know your garage door is open?” I run out and realize that all is well and accounted for. Phew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;After my husband, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I didn’t do it this time,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; left the garage door open, I gave a big lecture to the girls that we must &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; close the door when we are the last one to go inside. Fast forward two hours, and we are returning home from the grocery store and in the middle of unloading our merchandise. Our 10 year old remembers my lecture well. She promptly closes the garage door, beaming with pride that she is contributing to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;team family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;. “I closed the garage door,” she announces. My husband and I look at each other. After 22 combined years of dating and marriage, we both arrive at the same conclusion.  Unfortunately, since we are in the middle of unloading, the tailgate of our SUV is still open. I run out and see the tailgate door mostly closed, in an awkward position. Upon inspection, the tailgate is deeply scratched, but functioning. The garage door is no worse for wear. This has not always been the case, but that is a different story, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;and I didn’t do it this time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;We got lucky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I look up from my task and realize, my toddler is not underfoot. The girls and I begin searching for him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Everywhere, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;twice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; Okay, seriously, where is he??? Then, I find him, safe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Naughty,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; but safe. He has found the open jelly bean machine in a remote corner of my daughter's room, hidden from view between her queen bed and the wall, and is piling fistfuls of jelly belly beans in his 8-toothed mouth. “Ummmy,” he says. I know my son considered himself &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;lucky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I’m washing a sink full of dishes. It is bottomless. My wet, but clean, dishes are piling dangerously high on the nearby counter. I’m having a pity party for one. Then, CRASH! A china bowl, from the clean heap, plunges overboard and smashes e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e! Crap! Then, I think, please let that be the bowl with the chip in it that I should have thrown away years ago. P-l-e-a-s-e! Upon review of the surviving bowls...YESSSS!    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Do you see where I am going with this? Say it with me, “It could be worse.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-8452071949471090523?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/8452071949471090523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-could-be-worse.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8452071949471090523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/8452071949471090523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-could-be-worse.html' title='It could be worse.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-7665763723027050140</id><published>2010-06-27T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T13:29:13.859-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Is that fun and easy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Ahh, to be 7 again. As we grow older, it seems that we forget to be lighthearted. While assembling a new electronic gift and reviewing the instruction manual, my 7 year old was edging her head in to get a glimpse of what was being accomplished. She asked, “Is that fun and easy, Mom?”  I had to pause. How would you answer that question? I hardly had the heart to tell her the truth, so I lied. “It is fun and easy,” I said back to her, smiling. I had to laugh out loud. She seemed so satisfied with that answer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Now, I try to remember how she lifted the mood in the room with that simple question. Things really do not need to be as mundane and even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;painful&lt;/span&gt; as we make them appear. My husband and I tend to engage in a few &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;do-it-yourself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; projects that don’t always go over gracefully. Don’t get me wrong, the job gets done and the project works, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;but graceful,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt; not so much. My role, in these projects, is to be ready for anything, and (this is key) to be ready &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;quick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;. I need to be well versed in tool talk. When he asks for a phillips screwdriver, I clarify if that is that the flat one or the cross one. Okay, so I need to brush up on the tool lingo, but if attitude is everything, then I'm seriously a team player here. When he was on his back, under the sink, balancing on his upper back and feet only, sweating while trying to connect the new water line to the new faucet, and water is dripping like clockwork onto his forehead, I squeezed my my head in there and asked, “Is that fun and easy?” It is a mood lifter. You should try it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-7665763723027050140?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/7665763723027050140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/is-that-fun-and-easy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7665763723027050140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/7665763723027050140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/is-that-fun-and-easy.html' title='Is that fun and easy?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5455562805487236028</id><published>2010-06-26T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T15:17:32.409-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><title type='text'>This is big!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="post-header"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This is my third blog post. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;This is big,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; people. You see I'm one of the  one-hit-wonder types of people. I rarely even remember to think about a  new goal twice. New Year's resolutions are wasted on me. I think, plan,  and write out how my new goal will be perfectly executed. It is  fail-proof. It is a sure thing, a real win/win. Life is good. I go to  bed that night, wake up the next morning, and bam.......I'm a clean  slate. What goal? What babystep? You know the cheer. You say routines, I  say boring. "Routines!" "Boring!" You get the picture??? I guess I'm  one of those creative types. So far, 2 of my 3 kids have been gifted  with these same qualities. The jury is still out on the 3rd kid, he is  still a baby. Well, a toddler anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I have actually been making progress  decluttering around the house. Recently, I've organized the kitchen  cabinets, my closet, the kids' rooms, the laundry room, just to name a  few. I bought a new shredder and I'm making my way through piles of  utility bills, statements, etc. It feels pretty good. I read somewhere,  that the Golden Gate Bridge is painted everyday. Really, a part of that  bridge is painted &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;everyday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;.  Once it is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;finished&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;, it  is time to begin again. So I try to imagine that the decluttering, that  is required around here, is a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;daily&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; practice. It will never be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;. It is part of the journey, not  the final destination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;On that note, naptime and Hannah Montana are almost over, and I  can see a few areas that need some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;paint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;, if you know what I mean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5455562805487236028?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5455562805487236028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-big.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5455562805487236028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5455562805487236028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-big.html' title='This is big!'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-3426744644159343736</id><published>2010-06-25T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T12:51:26.426-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>Am I doing this right?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Today, the kids and I, went to Target. Again. Well, we had been there the night before to return something. The 10 and 7 year old girls wanted to shop for toys. I knew our time was limited, so I had the girls think over their considerations for purchase overnight. We are very practical. We spent time online price comparing.  The need for these toys became apparent. Absence made the heart grow fonder. So away we went, back to Target this morning. Thanks to all the online searching, decisions were made easily. The girls were buying these toys with their own hard earned money. They checked prices with the handy scanner kiosks and were very aware of the dollar totals they were each spending, even a second-grader can add in her head. They are both shocked and somewhat appalled at the idea of taxes on their items.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Meanwhile, in the same shopping trip, I have a 20 month old boy, belted up in the cart. He is supplied with goldfish, milk laced with chocolate Ovaltine, and a random m&amp;amp;m to entice compliance with our shopping program. It is not going as well as planned. He loses interest in each item we show him quicker than the next. He easily eels his way out of the restraints and somehow ends up in my arms. He then morphs into a semi-liquid state and finds himself free, running to the 20 inch bouncing ball display, the mother ship. I see the eyes of the Target employees wondering if we are leaving soon. I also see the understanding eyes of the btdt, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;been there done that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; moms and grandparents. I think they may think he's as cute as I think he is. Or, maybe they feel sorry for me. Either way, the only way out of the store, due to his eel-like, semi-liquid qualities, is to chase a big ball to the registers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;All is quiet on the southwestern front. The girls are playing, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;amazingly well,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt; with their new dolls and accessories . The boy has been fed and is sleeping in his crib. I am here reflecting on how different parenting is in all its stages. The difference in boys, girls, their ages, my age, etc., &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I only hope I am doing this right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-3426744644159343736?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/3426744644159343736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/am-i-doing-this-right.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3426744644159343736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/3426744644159343736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/am-i-doing-this-right.html' title='Am I doing this right?'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7722085233883336886.post-5608212843823691791</id><published>2010-06-24T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T09:24:25.421-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organization'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Today is the day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;So, I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while. Well, I actually set up the account about a year ago, and then never posted anything, because I wanted it to be perfect. Anyone ever been there? I actually had to change the age of my kids, and add a year to my marriage. Seriously, it's shocking how fast time flies. Well, over this past year, I've had so many experiences that would have been wonderful to share&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(optimistic thinking)&lt;/span&gt;, or at least write down so that I can remember them &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(probably the case)&lt;/span&gt;. Today, after being inspired by a blog, Smallnotebook.org, I've decided that today is the day. We are in the middle of summer vacation. It seems to be that our mission each day is that we "try" to rip the house apart each day. We are very successful on this mission. During this first paragraph alone, I have been interrupted about 10 times. Apparently, I am going to learn to be a very patient person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I suffer from a case of perfectionistic procrastination, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;of course I made that term up&lt;/span&gt;. I've heard it is a common affliction. I have an email box that only catches my attention once it is at the 1000+ emails level. So, I did something new. I did some quick mass deletions of junk email, and got the level to be about 500, or so. Then, I moved over all the old emails and put them in a folder called "old email inbox". Now, I am happy to say that my current inbox has only 16 emails. I enjoy reading, deleting, and actually managing the inbox. Who knew??? I was constantly punishing myself with the old inbox. I had read, once, that you should begin as you wish to go with current photos. Our tendency to get photos organized is put off when we have years of photos stacked up waiting and making us feel guilty.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go pick up the pieces that fell, while typing my first post to my very own blog. My kids have reached their limit. I also need a refill on my coffee. I literally have my leg extended, trying to keep the 20 month old boy from climbing the computer tower. Oh yeah, my time is up! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7722085233883336886-5608212843823691791?l=laurivanstone.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/feeds/5608212843823691791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/today-is-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5608212843823691791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7722085233883336886/posts/default/5608212843823691791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurivanstone.blogspot.com/2010/06/today-is-day.html' title='Today is the day.'/><author><name>Lauri VS.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10036462429707488994</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8XC9Mj4z4O4/TUlkBPSC8uI/AAAAAAAAAFI/KBo3rvzIaQw/s220/IMG_3981.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
