tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-112910562009-07-20T15:44:53.846-05:00ArmyWifeToddlerMomDay to day diary of a 39 year old working mother. Recipes, ocassional attempts at humor, family photos.Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.comBlogger3197125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-1024738689366422972009-07-17T11:07:00.001-05:002009-07-17T11:09:27.865-05:00How to support the troops?Here <a href="http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=124382577577&h=VsxJj&u=MV434&ref=mf">is an idea</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-102473868936642297?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-71027235202260501172009-07-17T09:58:00.000-05:002009-07-17T09:59:15.523-05:00Computer probation...I need to get things done, so we can get the heck out of Dodge.<br /><br />We are going boating, <a href="http://armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com/2006/06/30-minutes-from-my-hometown.html">and here</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-7102723520226050117?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-53052781745724120162009-07-16T10:31:00.002-05:002009-07-16T11:22:49.678-05:00If you do not listen to this at least twice, you are nuts...<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7oJU69mqmxU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7oJU69mqmxU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-5305278174572412016?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-87332971174005738582009-07-16T10:03:00.003-05:002009-07-16T10:20:53.738-05:00The accidental runnerI hate running...for those 2 people that might not know. I never liked it. I will hike and walk for days, but running...no thanks. It has always made me feel like puking, and has made me gasp for air. No thanks I do not like either of those things. <br /><br />I need to get my bike like yesterday. The Collective are swift and fast, and I have had to take up jogging, walking in order to keep up with them. No thanks. <br /><br />The trail near the house is within short distance and it is a busy one. I am trying to teach the kids good bike path manners. Which means an announcements "bike to your left". Watch for dogs and scooters. If you are at a crossing, wait for Mom. <br /><br />Last night while at a corner there were about 16 bikes congregated down the street. There was chatting going on, and as soon as I arrive...<br /><br />I hear a 14 year old girl say to her friend "I cannot believe he said that.." Keep in mind this 14 year old girl had silver braces on her teeth...<br /><br />My son told her she looked weird. <br /><br />Ughhh....<br /><br />She wasn't weird looking she was a 14 year old girl who had taken the time to straighten her hair, and put lip gloss on, and was dressed very 14 year old. <br /><br />I have talked to SR about his social filter endlessly. He just says the first thing that pops in his head..but I know the delicate nature of being a 14 year old. I am sure this will stick with her...as it was said around soooo many people. <br /><br />I was not sure what to say. <br /><br />Do I make a big fuss in front of everyone, and apologize for his feral behavior? Which would be MORE embarrassing to a 14 year old girl, do I tell her she is lovely and my son is weird like that, or do I just keep going?<br /><br />I opted for ignoring him, and lecturing him when we got home...I need a bike, so we can just keep moving...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-8733297117400573858?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-24931030273561409172009-07-14T13:35:00.001-05:002009-07-14T13:35:49.343-05:00Homes For Our Troops<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ezVTps1v0OU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ezVTps1v0OU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-2493103027356140917?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-58409426771834386482009-07-14T10:42:00.004-05:002009-07-14T10:55:46.853-05:00The food was nummy...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlynsrpaTTI/AAAAAAAABok/4nY5pncBBtU/s1600-h/DSC02848.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlynsrpaTTI/AAAAAAAABok/4nY5pncBBtU/s400/DSC02848.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358342042736545074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlynsPp6SQI/AAAAAAAABoc/ceIsQ6lodBM/s1600-h/DSC02847.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlynsPp6SQI/AAAAAAAABoc/ceIsQ6lodBM/s400/DSC02847.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358342035222448386" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Slynr4PN1EI/AAAAAAAABoU/WA-vCHYErHA/s1600-h/DSC02844.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Slynr4PN1EI/AAAAAAAABoU/WA-vCHYErHA/s400/DSC02844.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358342028936467522" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlynrUg37-I/AAAAAAAABoM/UQPmu-rmrDI/s1600-h/DSC02846.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlynrUg37-I/AAAAAAAABoM/UQPmu-rmrDI/s400/DSC02846.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358342019346853858" /></a><br /><br />I decided to have Indian food for my birthday, so we went to <a href="http://www.theoven-lincoln.com/">The Oven</a> in The Haymarket. <br /><br />The Collective cannot seem to decide if they like Indian food or not. SR likes it more than PN. It is the different spicy, they can do all kinds of spicy, but I guess there is something about curry. They both loved the tandori chicken, chutney, veggies. not so keen on the spicy yogurts. <br /><br />We went for ice cream yesterday too. There is a Zesto across from a Long Term Facility I used to work at, I had not been there for ages. I told the kids I would take them for cones. They wanted shakes, and let me know they were not thrilled with my choice of cones. I called them out on complaining about going out for ice cream. Seriously.<br /><br />SR had a hard day yesterday, unsure why. He told me he felt out of sorts all day, told me his body clock felt out of whack..He has not had a day like this since school was in session...Normally I can trace this to an event, or artificial sweetener. (He does not do well with artificial sweetener, I do not allow him to have it) I felt bad for him, because there was nothing he or I could do to get him on track. Think of a car with one flat tire....just sort of bumpy and irritated, and no ability to fix the darn thing...<br /><br /><br />We dined out of doors last night, and it was lovely, the sky was turquoise. DH managed to get home from work before 8pm, which was unusual. He brought home chocolate covered almonds and colorful flowers for me. <br /><br />I am calling a man about an antique bicycle today, it is adorable, and appears to be in good shape, it is aquamarine, and has a headlight, and basket...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-5840942677183438648?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-27648763862433415422009-07-13T14:22:00.003-05:002009-07-13T14:27:23.367-05:00Prayer for AmericaWhy do I miss my Pastor and Church family back in Arkansas so much.....<br /><br />Here is my Pastor performing a song he wrote.<br /><br />Might I mention here he was a Marine medic in Vietnam....<br /><br />His blog <a href="http://xtnyoda.blogspot.com/">is here...</a><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X-9hBQGBNe0&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X-9hBQGBNe0&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-2764876386243341542?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-79498501148176908562009-07-13T10:25:00.007-05:002009-07-13T11:18:24.081-05:00What does 39 feel like?So far it feels the same, even if my Sister keeps calling me telling me I am 40...squealing with joy. She wants me to skip 39 entirely.<br /><br />Oye...<br /><br />She does not quite understand she is 7 years older than me, so this is a battle she cannot win. Heh...<br /><br />I skipped yoga this morning, but should have went. My goal for next year is to be able to wear a 2 piece swimsuit without frightening small children, or turning 18 year old girls off from the prospect of Motherhood. <br /><br /> ...shallow I know, but whatever. <br /><br /><br />Plans, there are none, I have no food cravings, which is odd. I am making an angel food cake with chocolate icing. We have to return library books, if the sun manages to stay out I will take The Collective to the pool, so I can lie on a towel under the sun with The Last Patriot by Brad Thor....<br /><br />We need to get milk AGAIN. This is an every other day thing now. <br /><br />My Father called and told me to go out and buy myself a new outfit as a birthday present from him. I need something teal, and purple so I just may do that. <br /><br />39 feels just like 38.....<br /><br />38 felt just like 37 etc.<br /><br />Young ladies, do not forget to moisturize daily!<br /><br />The difference between 38 and 39, might be tempo or mood? Example <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceremony_(song)">Ceremony</a> possibly the best song ever written<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KVdheR0bUwI&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KVdheR0bUwI&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LaiOgToofBo&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LaiOgToofBo&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dNzKI8usaXQ&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dNzKI8usaXQ&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-7949850114817690856?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-24864470645606595152009-07-12T15:08:00.000-05:002009-07-12T15:09:26.096-05:00recalling birthday present for myself in 1987...<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3QhH21iadQ8&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3QhH21iadQ8&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-2486447064560659515?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-25387263344836420272009-07-12T12:15:00.001-05:002009-07-12T12:15:54.423-05:00nostalgia<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IzcKIR-xW3A&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IzcKIR-xW3A&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-2538726334483642027?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-55388079172895940182009-07-12T01:40:00.002-05:002009-07-12T11:40:33.865-05:00I am 39 on monday...Seriously? <br /><br />I do not feel 39. What does it feel like? I guess I will tell you Monday. <br /><br />My Dad mentioned the other day while visiting...<br /><br />AWTM's Dad: "hey you have a birthday coming up, how old are you going to be?<br /><br />AWTM: "uh 39.."<br /><br />AWTM's Dad: "Do you have any idea how old that makes me feel?"<br /><br />AWTM: "do you have any idea how old THAT makes me feel?"<br /><br />bwah....<br /><br />I do not have anything planned, going to make myself an Angel food cake. No cravings for a special meal or anything...still looking for a bike.<br /><br />Unsure how I will spend the day. Hoping DH will be home before 8pm, that seems to be the magic hour these days..<br /><br />I will be headed to my Father's home for the weekend, possibly take the kids fishing...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-5538807917289594018?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-17599653265161895132009-07-11T00:16:00.005-05:002009-07-11T00:33:29.899-05:00I love Ruthlace..For many reasons, and including that all of my Grandparents are no longer with us...she <a href="http://ruthlace.blogspot.com/">gives me a glimpse</a> into their lives..<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-1759965326516189513?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-12088344950261939532009-07-10T17:33:00.005-05:002009-07-10T23:31:15.839-05:00Kites<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCt_kRueI/AAAAAAAABoE/9Q9YPu9-6u0/s1600-h/DSC02794.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCt_kRueI/AAAAAAAABoE/9Q9YPu9-6u0/s400/DSC02794.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356964377193986530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCtvEOWvI/AAAAAAAABn8/8oeWqEhr0YA/s1600-h/DSC02793.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCtvEOWvI/AAAAAAAABn8/8oeWqEhr0YA/s400/DSC02793.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356964372764580594" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCtTiE6QI/AAAAAAAABn0/4b7xJ8hVG8Q/s1600-h/DSC02792.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCtTiE6QI/AAAAAAAABn0/4b7xJ8hVG8Q/s400/DSC02792.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356964365373597954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCtHdPidI/AAAAAAAABns/gaQTxwA_p00/s1600-h/DSC02787.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCtHdPidI/AAAAAAAABns/gaQTxwA_p00/s400/DSC02787.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356964362132097490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCs_9QTGI/AAAAAAAABnk/VuCqopID6nc/s1600-h/DSC02785.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfCs_9QTGI/AAAAAAAABnk/VuCqopID6nc/s400/DSC02785.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356964360118881378" /></a><br />Update:<br />North Carolina Grammie always sends the most fun things for The Collective, this time it was kites! Beautiful big colorful kites with the longest tails I have ever seen. On the day we decided to fly them, the wind was perfect, a bit hot out but it is July. <br /><br />SR managed his alone, PN sort of freaked out. While at my Father last year she had some sort of Dora kite, and Grampanio got it stuck in a tree. So as soon as I let her kite out more than 4 feet, even though we were in an open field, with a wide open sky, she was fierce about keeping it close and protecting it. Understandable. She is my packrat, she is my things kid...she is my collector. <br /><br />It was a gorgeous day, and the sky...<a href="http://armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com/2008/01/sky.html">how I missed the open sky</a>....I can never express it enough...<br /><br />I am hoping my kids learn to love and appreciate what a wonderful feeling it is to see it. To see the sun rise and set..and to see the moon illuminate everything. To be able to watch the weather come in....and go out...It is home<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-1208834495026193953?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-31379689447122118962009-07-10T17:19:00.003-05:002009-07-10T23:59:09.270-05:00July trip to The Sheldon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBqIq6yAI/AAAAAAAABnc/kuQBxazP0kM/s1600-h/DSC02828.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBqIq6yAI/AAAAAAAABnc/kuQBxazP0kM/s400/DSC02828.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356963211406657538" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBp70nkxI/AAAAAAAABnU/Fjj2-91KTFw/s1600-h/DSC02827.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBp70nkxI/AAAAAAAABnU/Fjj2-91KTFw/s400/DSC02827.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356963207957680914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBp63sOEI/AAAAAAAABnM/ZTkinuIx0JI/s1600-h/DSC02829.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBp63sOEI/AAAAAAAABnM/ZTkinuIx0JI/s400/DSC02829.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356963207702132802" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBpekivAI/AAAAAAAABnE/SuJA9AraZmE/s1600-h/DSC02830.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlfBpekivAI/AAAAAAAABnE/SuJA9AraZmE/s400/DSC02830.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356963200105626626" /></a><br /><br />Update: <br /><br />The kids were stir crazy today, as I was not feeling well this week. I do not blame them. They are still discovering our city. I had them pick out a destination out of the Lincoln Safari book. They both chose a park, that had skateboarding ramps or whatever you call them, and equipment to play on. As soon as we pulled up, we noted about 14 young tweens and teens skateboarding, trying new tricks. SR loved it, thought it was "AWESOME". I asked him if he noticed anything...<br /><br />SR has been my frustrated child. I suppose that is what happens when you read so early, and certain things come so easy to you...some things do not. Eg: the bike. A year ago, it was awful to even try to get him to attempt it, because it was work for him. It was not easy. This did not make sense to him. But as he watched these young men try and try and fall and land on pavement, he did notice...<br /><br />AWTM: "do you notice anything?"<br /><br />SR: "The make mistakes, and they just get back on, they need to practice"<br /><br />AWTM: SIGHING, the biggest sigh you can imagine....peace. <br /><br />SR finally understands trying at 7. This may sound like nothing to some folks, others will understand, and it is difficult to explain the amount of encouraging and exhaustive cheerleading we have had to do to get us here. There is a certain peace I have tonight, that I can not express. <br /><br />We then decided to go out for Vietnamese lunch. I ordered bun, and shared with The collective. This particular restaurant has the long heavy chop sticks. PN picked them up like she eats with them every meal, and ate her entire dish of bun! SR loathes the heavy chopsticks, and even though he was frustrated he did not complain, he ate with one in each hand...An older Vietnamese complimented PN on her chopstick handling! She beamed. <br /><br />We then decided to go to <a href="http://www.sheldonartgallery.org/">The Sheldon Art Gallery</a>, at UNL. I was sort of worried at the beginning, they have done Natural History museums, science museums, etc..but never a non interactive museum. So I gave them the no touching, no getting to close to paintings, no running, no talking rule bit..THEY loved it. LOVED it. In good news, the museum is quite small, with 4 small galleries to go through, there was no time for them to be bored. In fact I was surprised that they sat on benches and actually looked at painintgs, laughing at what was whimsy, calling what was weird, weird, and loving some of the art work, as well as pointing out details I might not have noticed...PN, recognized <a href="http://www.sheldonartgallery.org/collection/search.html?topic=detail&clct_id=6126">this painting </a>immediately, as we have a small print of it in our dining room. she was thrilled she recognized it, and was excited. We both noted my print is not a good reproduction as my print looks more yellow than green in spots.. SR was interested in Whistlers lithography and print making as he has been reading about this for about 2 months. He could explain to me in detail each part of the process in lithography, and in other print making. PN did not quite understand why so many sculptures were "naked", and decided it must be hard to sculpt clothing...<br /><br />I have been enjoying them so much this summer, and am thrilled I have had the opportunity to see such growth in them both. It is happening so fast. I no longer make beds, or clear off plates, or pick up toys or clothing...they can do all of those things, and normally do so without me fussing at them...<br /><br />There are moments I want to stop the clock and do days over again and again...like today<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-3137968944712211896?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-29706415684014575472009-07-09T23:01:00.003-05:002009-07-09T23:05:00.831-05:00this week was a wash...the week was a failure, because of biochemistry...great.<br /><br />I am better today, just tired. <br /><br />Tomorrow is another day!<br /><br />We are making banana bread in the morning!<br /><br /> INGREDIENTS (Nutrition)<br /><br /> * 2 eggs, beaten<br /> * 1/3 cup buttermilk<br /> * 1/2 cup vegetable oil<br /> * 1 cup mashed bananas<br /> * 1 1/2 cups white sugar<br /> * 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour<br /> * 1 teaspoon baking soda<br /> * 1/2 teaspoon salt<br /> * 1/2 cup chopped pecans (optional)<br /><br /> <br /><br /> 1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Spray one 9x5 inch loaf pan with non-stick spray coating.<br /> 2. Blend together the eggs, buttermilk, oil and bananas.<br /> 3. Sift together the sugar, flour, baking soda and salt. Add to banana mixture and stir in pecans. Mix well.<br /> 4. Pour into prepared loaf pan and bake 1 hour and 20 minutes or until a cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean.<br /><br />UPDATE***if you do not have buttermilk you can use the following... * Milk (just under one cup)<br /> * 1 Tablespoon white vinegar or lemon juice<br /><br /><br />I also will be going to the gym for pilates in the morning.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-2970641568401457547?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-5526639477510510562009-07-09T12:01:00.003-05:002009-07-09T12:17:13.614-05:00Where did the week go?Oh I know, I spent over half of it, not functioning...grrrr...stupid tent.<br /><br />Trying to catch up today by doing laundry. I keep wondering where ALL of the hangers I bought went. Seriously. I guess I put that on the list for the next trip to the store...AGAIN. <br /><br />I managed to take the Collective to the pool yesterday, the water was cold because of rain in the morning, so they did not swim as much as I would have liked. I tried to read, and think they should make books waterproof. <br /><br />I harvested 6 cucumbers, a couple of jalapenos, and a couple of Serrano's. I also noted I might have accidentally planted 2 acorn squash instead of one zucchini, one acorn...darn it. The tomatoes are teeny, and I am guessing they will all come in at one time. It figures. My Father informed me, he has a ton of nice jars! Hooray, I was loathing the idea of spending money on any. So now I must brush up on my canning skills. The farmers are out with their corn, and I only planted enough to eat, so I am thinking about going to get a bunch to freeze. There is nothing better than real corn in the dead of winter...<br /><br />I am having company Saturday, and am thrilled DH's cousin is coming over for dinner! funtastic. <br /><br />I had company <a href="http://armyhousehold6.com/">on the third</a>, and was embarrassed that I had burnt dinner...burning lasagna for your Italian guest...ughhh. But it did not end there, my bread was served flaming (thank God I had another loaf), and my chocolate cream pie was soupy....ughhh. The company was nice though, and Household 6 is a busy, busy woman. And teeny, I wanted to carry her around in my purse. She is headed to Las Vegas soon, to speak on behalf of military wives. It is nice having people stop through! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlYlN8C3nqI/AAAAAAAABm8/lG2aaHWNJPM/s1600-h/DSC02655.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlYlN8C3nqI/AAAAAAAABm8/lG2aaHWNJPM/s400/DSC02655.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356509728190471842" /></a><br /><br />*why my dish, and grill are background I have no idea...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-552663947751051056?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-40128377776108212562009-07-08T09:28:00.005-05:002009-07-08T09:32:31.961-05:00Stupid tent...I have not felt good since Sunday, woman trouble...<br /><br />Yesterday at about 4pm, poof migraine. Took my imitrix, and it remained. Went ahead and had a coke, no relief. Took 800 mg motrin, no relief. At midnight I broke down and took some Pamprin with caffeine in it. That did the trick but I was up until 3am....<br /><br />Really how disruptive can one thing be....<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-4012837777610821256?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-64069300837732066452009-07-07T00:23:00.000-05:002009-07-07T00:24:18.545-05:00Raising of the flag in my hometown...Every time the flag is raised, I cry...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/p9e1GzvhT8w&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/p9e1GzvhT8w&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-6406930083773206645?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-26698196565099650622009-07-06T14:15:00.002-05:002009-07-06T14:20:32.233-05:00This Fourth was my Favorite!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOYLAxkiI/AAAAAAAABm0/0NdaZKFFZd0/s1600-h/DSC02754.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOYLAxkiI/AAAAAAAABm0/0NdaZKFFZd0/s400/DSC02754.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355429084076806690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOXw9YwNI/AAAAAAAABms/Bj6YkxkDOmk/s1600-h/DSC02743.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOXw9YwNI/AAAAAAAABms/Bj6YkxkDOmk/s400/DSC02743.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355429077083275474" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOXUPd0iI/AAAAAAAABmk/CSSzRfg1Bpk/s1600-h/DSC02712.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOXUPd0iI/AAAAAAAABmk/CSSzRfg1Bpk/s400/DSC02712.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355429069374476834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOXAhDxVI/AAAAAAAABmc/Vka0OrPYiVc/s1600-h/DSC02672.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOXAhDxVI/AAAAAAAABmc/Vka0OrPYiVc/s400/DSC02672.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355429064079557970" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOW1bhJyI/AAAAAAAABmU/1jiYB9BlnwQ/s1600-h/DSC02664.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SlJOW1bhJyI/AAAAAAAABmU/1jiYB9BlnwQ/s400/DSC02664.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355429061103527714" /></a><br />I had such a good time, and laughed a lot...more later, but here are some photos! The Collective had a good memory making Holiday!!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-2669819656509965062?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-11213891554321356252009-07-03T00:01:00.003-05:002009-07-03T00:47:55.749-05:00what in the heck happened to my energy....?
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<br />I am up at midnight making a chocolate cream pie for my dinner guest tomorrow!
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<br />Today we had errands to run, and the DMV to visit (always a joy and efficient here! Even with a long line of 50 people, it took 20 minutes). I entertained myself by watching SR sit by two 15 year old girls for 10 minutes non-stop. They were sort of irritated, but he was in the mood for socializing today. He has much to say. We had to grocery shop too, and during this time SR started telling rabbit jokes. I have no idea what started it, but the kids had 3 hours of jokes to tell me. 3 hours of non-stop talking, I am sure they come by it naturally, but WOW. I suppose I know how my Husband feels.
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<br /><a href="http://soldierdeb.blogspot.com/">Deb</a> was right in the last comment, when she said, this learning to ride a bike this week means FREEDOM. when you are 5 and 7, and can ride a bike, it is HUGE. No one can tell you how fast to go, there is no holding on to hands. It is you and the open sidewalk, as far as the property line. Tonight I let them test their wings, by letting them go around the block, the the going back and forth is getting on SR last nerve. I of course followed them on foot. They did terrific. (I did happen to witness an argument between some teens lighting fireworks, and their neighbor across the road, it was not good....) SR and PN did well. However it will be no surprise to anyone, that I too will need a bike now. Just to keep up with them. In good news, there are bike TRAILS all over the city. I have never see so many bike trails. You can get from one end of the city to the other. So for my birthday which is around the corner I was asking for an ice cream maker, or an inexpensive food processor from DH and the kids, I have scratched those, and am asking for a bike. Nothing fancy for now, (I have not ridden in a long long time) but I would <a href="http://www.electrabike.com/home.php">love to get this next year. I want a basket for it too, and a matching scarf! I mean really if I am going to ride, I may as well look insane right? I used to want the very elegant black and brown Amsterdam, but I changed my mind...
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3310/3636848333_8ed7dc357d.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 335px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3310/3636848333_8ed7dc357d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>
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<br />So the Collective are feeling free, and independent, and confident. Amazing what a couple of days on a bike can do......
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<br />One of the best things about parenting? Getting to do things twice, and seeing things from entirely different perspective, you get to see tiny people learn to walk, talk, run, swim, ride bikes, you get to jump on a trampoline, and shoot your kids high in the air, and laugh until you cry...
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<br />and you get 3 hours of rabbit jokes...most of them bad
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-1121389155432135625?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-30290783003194372842009-07-01T10:20:00.003-05:002009-07-01T10:26:08.019-05:00Better...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkuAATJnMdI/AAAAAAAABmM/3xtJ3NgnkAE/s1600-h/DSC02645.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkuAATJnMdI/AAAAAAAABmM/3xtJ3NgnkAE/s400/DSC02645.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353513324688912850" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkuAAGnwUYI/AAAAAAAABmE/h8-HRZNY7BA/s1600-h/DSC02649.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkuAAGnwUYI/AAAAAAAABmE/h8-HRZNY7BA/s400/DSC02649.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353513321325678978" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Skt__1h6bII/AAAAAAAABl8/7YsXhibvMB0/s1600-h/DSC02643.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Skt__1h6bII/AAAAAAAABl8/7YsXhibvMB0/s400/DSC02643.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353513316737772674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Skt__rZKyYI/AAAAAAAABl0/E7tO6HQ5LaI/s1600-h/DSC02642.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Skt__rZKyYI/AAAAAAAABl0/E7tO6HQ5LaI/s400/DSC02642.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353513314016741762" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Skt__ZTB-rI/AAAAAAAABls/ALcuNQRHC4E/s1600-h/DSC02641.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/Skt__ZTB-rI/AAAAAAAABls/ALcuNQRHC4E/s400/DSC02641.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353513309159160498" /></a><br />Very hard to take photos, while preventing death...<br /><br />I cannot seem to get them off of the bikes now, although they get grumpy when they need a break. <br /><br />While they are taking a break, I must do some housework, as <a href="http://armyhousehold6.com/">I am expecting company</a>. I hope I can some things straightened up before the arrival tomorrow. <br /><br />Since the wash machine is still working, there is no excuse for a pile of wash! (Yes, it is still working, knock on wood, and Praise Jesus)<br /><br />On the list today: PAY BILLS! Ughhh, maybe I should save it for after 5pm, so I can have a beer while doing it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-3029078300319437284?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-30605126726786437102009-07-01T08:34:00.004-05:002009-07-01T08:45:48.792-05:00Grammie, pack your running shoes!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnJXedBeI/AAAAAAAABlk/bZVqlwBZQcE/s1600-h/DSC02635.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnJXedBeI/AAAAAAAABlk/bZVqlwBZQcE/s400/DSC02635.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353485992678196706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnJdcP_fI/AAAAAAAABlc/kezOMEgfNdQ/s1600-h/DSC02640.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnJdcP_fI/AAAAAAAABlc/kezOMEgfNdQ/s400/DSC02640.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353485994279566834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnJKdYbkI/AAAAAAAABlU/adQ5qEQMXjE/s1600-h/DSC02639.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnJKdYbkI/AAAAAAAABlU/adQ5qEQMXjE/s400/DSC02639.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353485989184040514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnI3KLTTI/AAAAAAAABlM/l-_qv6tBcIU/s1600-h/DSC02632.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SktnI3KLTTI/AAAAAAAABlM/l-_qv6tBcIU/s400/DSC02632.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353485984003214642" /></a><br />The Collective can ride bikes, sans training wheels! <br /><br />Grammie is set to visit soon, and misses these children sooo much. Grammie, you would have loved this! <br /><br />Note, pack tennis shoes! I am going to have to get bike, as I can no longer walk or jog to keep up with them. <br /><br />SR had his first big crash last night, went butt over shoulders. Scrapped his knee, and thought he would die...<br /><br />He outgrew his bike as well, so last night helmets, and pads were bought, as well as a new bike. Hoping it does not take him long to figure it out...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-3060512672678643710?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-13424087105549940752009-06-30T08:46:00.002-05:002009-06-30T09:11:50.992-05:00There are magnets in everythingThe Collective spent most of the day yesterday, trying to learn how to ride bikes.<br /><br />The Collective are 7 and 5, so yes I have heard the criticism from some who think I should have done this prior to now. (This is strange to me, be nice)<br /><br />They have both been riding with training wheels. PN actually doing better than SR. WE have gone through a lot of training wheels. 2-3 sets per child. SR was not interested in learning to ride. He did not think it sounded fun, and would only get on the bike if we had a destination. He did not see bike riding as a fun activity, but more as a mode of transport. PN just wanted to ride and smile. However, he caught on, and seemed to be enjoying it. <br /><br />So as with all new things, I had to make an announcement in the morning, that we would be taking off training wheels, and practicing in the back yard sans wheel. PN, was ready, Rockstar ready. SR on the other hand thought "if it ain't broke why fix it". We gathered tools, and the tire pump and headed to the back. They helped take the training wheels off. <br /><br />I pushed them both off in the yard, and they did OK, we did this for about 30 minutes. (Going from pushing and running behind one child to the next is for 24 year old Moms). The grass seemed hard to pedal in, so we moved up front out the sidewalk. I have a lot of sidewalk, and when it needs to be scooped I curse it, but today it proved to be a good thing. <br /><br />First thing I note is heat and humidity, ick....The Collective seem to get the hang of it. The biggest problem as with all things is confidence level. The will ride, and when they over think they steer into the grass. I also note there must be a bike magnet in trees, each other, and any object in the line of sight. If there is something to avoid, The collective seem to want to run directly into it. <br /><br />The most comical part of the day had to be SR. He was nervous. He has only required a bandaide once. One time. He was 2 and dropped a can of pork and beans on his foot, and sliced his toe open...he flipped out. He is not my risk taker. He should be an actuarian for Insurance companies, because he calculates risk all day. If it appears to be unsafe, he steers clear. PN on the other hand, well she is my gambler. (Hence her 2 broken arms, prior to the age of 3) She is my climber, my camper, my hiker, my fisher, my curious monkey child. SR did fine despite all of this. Although he kept telling me "we are defeating gravity here you know, a feat that should me impossible, we need inertia, and centripetal force"...Oye. So when he would crash or fail, or pull into the grass, he would shake his fist and say "I curse you inertia!", or I curse you gravity!" <br /><br />We took frequent breaks yesterday as the temps and humidity made it uncomfortable for me. I spent the day all yucked with sweat. Ick...<br /><br />We are going to try it again today. PN can go about 50 feet, and then she gets nervous. SR about 30. I am unsure how long this will take. DH is saying his guess is 7 days...I contend it might take 3 days... <br /><br />It is a confidence issue right now, neither of them trust themselves. Wish me luck...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-1342408710554994075?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-75889658379223869602009-06-29T09:54:00.003-05:002009-06-29T10:04:33.408-05:00Mulberry handsWe spent Saturday evening, at a pot luck for DH's work in the country. It was so lovely to hear nothing, but laughter. <br /><br />The Collective had a great time. PN of course wanted to adopt every animal on the place. I will have to break down soon and add another mammal to our tribe. As she just would sit, and pet, and hug, and follow anything with fur. <br /><br />We found a mulberry tree while taking a walking adventure, and although I am sure the other Moms wanted to kill me by the end of the night, the kids had such fun picking, and eating mulberries. All of them were covered in dark purple stains...<br /><br />SR picked an extra cup home, and we made mulberry pancakes. They were much better than even blueberry pancakes. <br /><br />We have the day off, other than my normal housewifery. I am trying to help SR ride his bike sans training wheels. He really has no interest, so wish me luck. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWdp31FSI/AAAAAAAABlE/EHtjLGXXUcg/s1600-h/DSC02617.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWdp31FSI/AAAAAAAABlE/EHtjLGXXUcg/s400/DSC02617.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763962074404130" /></a><br />all of the childrens hands were stained!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWdVMBZEI/AAAAAAAABk8/1DKwMSVXFWg/s1600-h/DSC02618.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWdVMBZEI/AAAAAAAABk8/1DKwMSVXFWg/s400/DSC02618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763956521952322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWdGpw9tI/AAAAAAAABk0/M4Mzh9mpA3U/s1600-h/DSC02591.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWdGpw9tI/AAAAAAAABk0/M4Mzh9mpA3U/s400/DSC02591.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763952620173010" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWc6HPQJI/AAAAAAAABks/2Kq5PeDFCiU/s1600-h/DSC02571.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWc6HPQJI/AAAAAAAABks/2Kq5PeDFCiU/s400/DSC02571.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763949254131858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWcyyvGwI/AAAAAAAABkk/dXSRWfCjGqo/s1600-h/DSC02572.JPG"><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/_7YTsHarkaVM/SkjWcyyvGwI/AAAAAAAABkk/dXSRWfCjGqo/s400/DSC02572.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763947289090818" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-7588965837922386960?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11291056.post-85958680732666636312009-06-27T11:00:00.001-05:002009-06-27T11:01:50.387-05:00Its fixed, it is not, it is fixed, it is not, it is FIXED for now...<a href="http://www.spousebuzz.com/blog/2009/06/mechanic-fail-or-no-i-cannot-fix-teh-washing-machinze.html?cid=6a00d8341c584153ef0115716c29b0970b#comment-6a00d8341c584153ef0115716c29b0970b">This is how I spent my entire day</a> yesterday...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11291056-8595868073266663631?l=armywifetoddlermom.blogspot.com'/></div>Army Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15724965902279649268noreply@blogger.com0