<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224</id><updated>2009-11-14T15:05:38.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed By Adoption and Birth</title><subtitle type='html'>Thank you for joining us on our new adventure. God has blessed us so much with each other, with our friends and family, and most importantly, with His only son Jesus who died for us. Jesus was adopted by Joseph, don't ya' know!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>492</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-4369053982280517527</id><published>2009-11-13T21:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T21:14:58.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, gosh. How cute are these?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sv48lRzeyRI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/ADIQd7N9RWI/s1600-h/Boys+school+pics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sv48lRzeyRI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/ADIQd7N9RWI/s320/Boys+school+pics.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403823214023330066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-4369053982280517527?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/4369053982280517527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=4369053982280517527' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4369053982280517527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4369053982280517527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-gosh-how-cute-are-these.html' title='Well, gosh. How cute are these?'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sv48lRzeyRI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/ADIQd7N9RWI/s72-c/Boys+school+pics.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-146154141211160586</id><published>2009-11-12T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T16:07:28.507-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink's owner has been found!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SvyhK-AbqQI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ax_2wYJ6A9M/s1600-h/Pink.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SvyhK-AbqQI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ax_2wYJ6A9M/s320/Pink.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403370862753327362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They live down the street. The woman who called me to ask if I had lost the dog told me that her neighbor across the street took the dog in for the night on Tuesday and took it for a walk the next day to see if anyone recognized her. They did! I'm not sure why she was missing her tag, or why her owners weren't looking for her, but I'm so happy to find out she is taken care of. She was a very lovely dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-146154141211160586?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/146154141211160586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=146154141211160586' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/146154141211160586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/146154141211160586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/11/pinks-owner-has-been-found.html' title='Pink&apos;s owner has been found!'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SvyhK-AbqQI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ax_2wYJ6A9M/s72-c/Pink.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5285550403418740191</id><published>2009-11-11T16:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T19:19:02.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet doggy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Svt1MNrzvuI/AAAAAAAAA4I/MOlu1SDniyg/s1600-h/LB+and+Pink.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Svt1MNrzvuI/AAAAAAAAA4I/MOlu1SDniyg/s320/LB+and+Pink.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403041030653329122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Svt1LjyFQKI/AAAAAAAAA4A/WdFJa05vbjk/s1600-h/BB+and+Pink.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Svt1LjyFQKI/AAAAAAAAA4A/WdFJa05vbjk/s320/BB+and+Pink.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403041019405353122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever see Annie? There's a song she sings when a stray dog finds her and decides they belong together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumb dog, why are you following me?&lt;br /&gt;You're as dumb as they come, dog,&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you just let me be?&lt;br /&gt;I ain't gonna feed you - ain't got a scrap for you,&lt;br /&gt;Need you - don't give a 'rap for you&lt;br /&gt;Dumb dog! Dumber than they come, Dog!&lt;br /&gt;You're the most presuming dog that a human could know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. The other day we met a sweet doggie we call "Pink" because she wears a pink, rhinestone-studded collar that currently has no tag attached. I am beginning to be afraid that her owner ripped the tag off and let her loose in our neighborhood hoping that someone will take her in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had been following a neighbor who was hoping we were the owners. The boys were so excited about the dog and she was so friendly and pretty, that I decided with some trepidation to keep her in the back yard until we found her owner. Pink and the boys played joyfully in the back yard for awhile before the humans and I went in for lunch and left Pink outside. She jumped the fence and was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh well," I thought, "we certainly don't need a dog!" but the longer she was gone I started to worry about her and miss her. After lunch BB and I were sitting on the couch and he said, "I miss doggy." I told him I missed her too and that she had gone to find her family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I know I hear whimpering and scratching at the door, and lo and behold, Pink had jumped back over the fence and wanted to come in. So I let the stinker in. She happily sniffed around and let the boys play with her. I took pictures. Then I put her back outside in order to make some signs to put up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made several haphazard signs to put up, and left Pink in the yard while the boys and I went to post them. When we got to our second stop, here she comes running by, having escaped again. I went ahead and left the signs thinking at least I would know if someone was looking for her. No calls. Well, I did get one call, but it was someone asking if we'd lost a dog. And let me say, this is no dumb dog. She grabbed one of BB's shoes when she left our house and carried it half way down the street. I think she was trying to return the shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't come back. After the boys woke up from their naps BB said, "Where did my doggy go?" and LB said, "Cant see her. Mommy, give dog this bell? My can't see her." Think they fell in love just a little? Think I did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Randy all about it and he was just as happy to come home to a house sans dog. Part of me was glad that she didn't return, but part of me was hoping she would. This was Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night when I returned from BSF and was preparing lunches for my guys, Randy looks out the back door and says, "We have a visitor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am beginning to worry about this dog. I really hope she is just jumping her owner's fence like she jumps ours. I just wish I could know for sure so I wouldn't worry about her. She is obviously a loved dog, seems to have been recently groomed, and is SO good with kids. BB liked to pry her mouth open to look at her teeth! She is also a young dog. Not necessarily a puppy, but maybe a tween? Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't need a dog. Can I say that again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think I should do if this dog keeps returning - attach a note to her like a homing pigeon? That's laughable. Message in a bottle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope she does not come back again tonight. Or do I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5285550403418740191?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5285550403418740191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5285550403418740191' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5285550403418740191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5285550403418740191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/11/dumb-dog.html' title='Sweet doggy.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Svt1MNrzvuI/AAAAAAAAA4I/MOlu1SDniyg/s72-c/LB+and+Pink.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-8922847023526410884</id><published>2009-10-29T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T07:33:18.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something to say.</title><content type='html'>My big kid has something to share. dvffrrrr5%Er5u4ef57fF$FX scssaa gveddef bbbbbnnneeeeeqqqqqq&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-8922847023526410884?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/8922847023526410884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=8922847023526410884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/8922847023526410884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/8922847023526410884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/something-to-say.html' title='Something to say.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-2691242852060285485</id><published>2009-10-28T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T18:42:24.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Troo</title><content type='html'>Well I survived. Ooh, golly it has been a painful day! There's nothing like illness or injury to make me realize how much I take health for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to fall asleep last night despite considerable pain in my back. I slept soundly until 3:45 when a sharp pain woke me up and discomfort did not allow me to go to sleep for about an hour. I woke up with Randy at 5:55 and waited for my turn in the shower. When I stood up there was no change from last night and I kept asking myself how I could possibly expect to be able to do an assessment today and carry in all my equipment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the shower I propped my elbows up on a shelf so that I could relax my back and I slipped, wrenching my back and leaving me in tears. But you know what, it felt better after that so maybe I inadvertently adjusted my spine! OK, well not completely better as I had bad pain several times after that and went back and forth about 10 times as to whether I should try to do the assessment. Eventually I settled on going and Randy packed the car for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 2 hours later I arrived at my former chiropractor's office and he was able to get me in for an adjustment. I was still hurting after that, but considerably less. I was a little hunched over but able to walk without much pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did the assessment and it went great! It was a really neat experience. I had a student help me bring in my instruments as an educational assignment. For lack of other facilities we had to do the assessment in the room with this student's teacher and assistant teacher and they were amazed by this student's musical abilities. So was I! It was really fun and obvious that this student should qualify for services. The teacher helped me carry all my gear back to the car and I made it safely home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow I have to parent again after a 36 hour break, and I have a feeling there will be a whole lot of Dora going on while my back continues to recover. I have an appointment with a local chiropractor on Friday so I can get back on track. He is also a physical therapist, and I have a feeling some PT will be in my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three unrelated items of interest:&lt;br /&gt;1) My talented, sweet and beautiful friend and fellow music therapist became engaged last night! Congratulations, Stefanie and Greg!&lt;br /&gt;2) Don't read My Sister's Keeper if you're not in the mood for a good cry.&lt;br /&gt;3) You can get kicked out of Meetup.com groups if you don't attend regularly enough, and it feels a lot like rejection.&lt;br /&gt;4) There is cake downstairs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-2691242852060285485?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/2691242852060285485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=2691242852060285485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/2691242852060285485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/2691242852060285485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/troo.html' title='Troo'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5245262558784298109</id><published>2009-10-27T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T19:07:27.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not my best day.</title><content type='html'>Today was rough. This morning as I awaited the FedEx with our closing documents in it and went back and forth on whether I was going to make it to MOPS after the FedEx arrived, I cracked a toenail on my right foot with the closet door. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it to MOPS an hour late, and worth it I must say, only for us to get home and have two little boys refuse to nap. I had to take them to a lovely friend's house at 3:15 for her to care for them while we had the closing docs notarized, so they really needed a nap, especially sweet LB who still really needs that afternoon nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I resigned to the fact that they would not have a nap today, my back had gone out and I could barely walk. I got them in the car with significant pain and lamaze breathing (and no, not for its traditional purpose) and waddled up to my friends door with the boys. I crept along to the notary and to Office Depot, for I am supposed to conduct a music therapy assessment tomorrow and I needed to laminate some pictures, and again somewhat miraculously made it back to the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My back hurts so much and practically every step is excruciating. Tomorrow is the best day for me to do this assessment, so prayerfully I can get to the chiropractor beforehand. I know most normal people would cancel that assessment, but I just can't bring myself to. However, if this is not significantly better in the morning I don't know how I can possibly manage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day is yucky. Thank God for my dear husband who picked up the boys, fed them dinner, fed me dinner,and is now preparing to take them to school in the morning for picture day. Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5245262558784298109?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5245262558784298109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5245262558784298109' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5245262558784298109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5245262558784298109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-my-best-day.html' title='Not my best day.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-4414805116866302389</id><published>2009-10-19T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T11:38:00.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying goodbye to the old house</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday Randy and I dropped our boys off at a drop-in day care for the day and trekked up to our old house to do some last minute cleaning and to pack of the last of our stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have asked me if I missed our old stomping ground and I wasn't really sure how to respond. Mostly I miss my friends, choir, and church home. I wasn't really missing the city itself. Until we went back. It's so beautiful and full of character there. We've moved to a much bigger city in a mostly non-University environment and it's just not the same. (Of course it's not the same, it's a different city!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate lunch with our dear MOH Jennifer and watched the Red River Rivalry on the big screen. We then went to the house. It was the first time I had been back for 7 weeks or so, and it was emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I saw the fence that we recently put up to keep the boys in the yard when we played outside. Then the grassy spot where I took BB's Halloween pictures the day LB arrived surprisingly. Ugh. That made my heart ache. Then the fence where we used to wait for sweet Zaylin to come to our house. Then when she would leave BB would cry, "Zaylin away!" We don't have any neighbors here who come walking through our backyard to come play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then into the house where we first lived as husband and wife, the living room where we had our first kiss, the room formerly known as yellow where we brought BB home. The home where LB developed and grew in utero and where we brought him after he was born. We spent years of joy and heartache in that home and this was the last time I would see it.I mourned appropriately and engaged in more than my share of sentimentality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we left for the last time and I watched the garage door close slowly, shutting all of our history inside, I became very sad. But then I realized how blessed we are to be leaving that place all together as a family. It's a much happier occasion than leaving a home where your parents had lived and died, a room where your child slept the night before going to Jesus suddenly, or a home where your ex-husband or ex-wife still live. I decided not to feel sorry for myself at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home it really felt like home, while just hours before the old house still seemed like home. "It's nice to be home," I said, and realized what that meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye-bye Winecup Hollow. Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-4414805116866302389?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/4414805116866302389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=4414805116866302389' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4414805116866302389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4414805116866302389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/saying-goodbye-to-old-house.html' title='Saying goodbye to the old house'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5089694612993636442</id><published>2009-10-08T15:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T15:22:27.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet big brother.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Ss5k1tC2ETI/AAAAAAAAA34/pwL7a-Z4Hsw/s1600-h/brothers+hug.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Ss5k1tC2ETI/AAAAAAAAA34/pwL7a-Z4Hsw/s320/brothers+hug.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390356677796434226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a transcript of a conversation I heard today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB was crying a little bit and standing under the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BB: "What happened?"&lt;br /&gt;No answer.&lt;br /&gt;BB: "You bump you head in there?"&lt;br /&gt;LB: "Es."&lt;br /&gt;BB (in a sympathetic voice): "Awww. Sally make you feel better," as he brought Sally the car to his little brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be still my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5089694612993636442?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5089694612993636442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5089694612993636442' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5089694612993636442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5089694612993636442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/sweet-big-brother.html' title='Sweet big brother.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Ss5k1tC2ETI/AAAAAAAAA34/pwL7a-Z4Hsw/s72-c/brothers+hug.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-6761887788356776553</id><published>2009-10-06T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T08:02:16.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Muddy day</title><content type='html'>These guys had some fun playing in the mud the other day. Mostly LB got muddy, as you can see, but BB enjoyed feeding him leaves like a giraffe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SstbKhmmORI/AAAAAAAAA3o/F_kqAngdx5c/s1600-h/little+brothers.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SstbKhmmORI/AAAAAAAAA3o/F_kqAngdx5c/s320/little+brothers.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389501615456008466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sstb1QZmZ1I/AAAAAAAAA3w/5K32YuHVJ5E/s1600-h/muddy+close+up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sstb1QZmZ1I/AAAAAAAAA3w/5K32YuHVJ5E/s320/muddy+close+up.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389502349572466514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SstbKBDNFgI/AAAAAAAAA3g/DZs4_0-P-yg/s1600-h/big+kid.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SstbKBDNFgI/AAAAAAAAA3g/DZs4_0-P-yg/s320/big+kid.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389501606717625858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-6761887788356776553?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/6761887788356776553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=6761887788356776553' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/6761887788356776553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/6761887788356776553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/muddy-day.html' title='Muddy day'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SstbKhmmORI/AAAAAAAAA3o/F_kqAngdx5c/s72-c/little+brothers.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-8273268849630496862</id><published>2009-10-04T17:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T17:45:01.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going back to work.</title><content type='html'>Well, sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time I was a music therapist. I had a few clients and was performing assessments for a local school district. Then out of the blue one day we learned that we would be adoptive parents in two weeks! I had to somewhat frantically find therapists to serve my clients and one assessment. That was almost exactly three years ago and I haven't worked a lick since. Well, not in the music therapy world at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I received a call from the school district asking if I would be available to do an assessment. Although I'm available, we've moved! But we're about 1.5 hours away. But after some prayer and consideration I decided that if they didn't mind a therapist who was 90 miles away, that I would be happy to do the assessment. I'm hired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put together a proposal for services and emailed that baby out just now. I would imagine I would get out to see this student next week and write up my results over the course of a few days. Writing a proposal was fun. It was nice to use my brain in that way again. Also, I consulted with a friend and fellow therapist with whom I used to work, and we had a nice afternoon doing business together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm not planning for a full-time retreat to therapy, because honestly, it's a very giving profession and a lot of my giving is required for my two little boys, but an assessment or consult here or there would be welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-8273268849630496862?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/8273268849630496862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=8273268849630496862' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/8273268849630496862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/8273268849630496862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/10/going-back-to-work.html' title='Going back to work.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-9005245935292976437</id><published>2009-09-27T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T18:22:40.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Miniature roadie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SsAPzP1ecOI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/6GrBSkxEqYE/s1600-h/Daddy+guitar.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SsAPzP1ecOI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/6GrBSkxEqYE/s320/Daddy+guitar.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386322527433683170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-9005245935292976437?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/9005245935292976437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=9005245935292976437' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/9005245935292976437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/9005245935292976437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/miniature-roadie.html' title='Miniature roadie.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SsAPzP1ecOI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/6GrBSkxEqYE/s72-c/Daddy+guitar.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5927492490707484940</id><published>2009-09-22T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T13:12:51.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curious Georges</title><content type='html'>Found this picture the other day and had to share it. The boys were looking out the window at the family of "diwwos" (armadillos) that lived at our house for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Srkvdpu2g_I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/scbj8XCUA5U/s1600-h/boys+look+out+window.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Srkvdpu2g_I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/scbj8XCUA5U/s320/boys+look+out+window.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384387015963214834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5927492490707484940?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5927492490707484940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5927492490707484940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5927492490707484940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5927492490707484940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/curious-georges.html' title='Curious Georges'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Srkvdpu2g_I/AAAAAAAAA3Q/scbj8XCUA5U/s72-c/boys+look+out+window.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-6462060197148565024</id><published>2009-09-21T12:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T12:40:43.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The adventures of Good-Enough Mom!</title><content type='html'>OK, the whole Supermom thing is a myth, but of course I already knew that. My new superhero name above needs to be more clever. Anyone have any ideas? Good-Enough Mom doesn't really flow well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am good enough because being a mom is a 24-7 job and who can do that well 100% of the time? Last night we were up from 1:30 to 3:30 with a very sleepy and still-getting-adjusted 3-year-old. Then this morning we had several disasters and went through almost a whole roll of paper towels cleaning up messes. I am good enough because the disasters are nearly forgotten and I have 2 boys resting upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am good enough because even when I eat snacks for meals my children still get most food groups at most meals. They usually have clothes on and usually are pretty interested in life. They only bite each other once in awhile and a lot of times they even act like they love each other. Most of the time it looks like I love them, too, but even when I'm scowling at the backs of their heads in the double stroller at Sea World after one younger brother who shall remain nameless refused to wear shoes, I'm still good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we're back online after a few weeks of intermittent internet service, so maybe I'll start posting more. I've found that with Facebook I haven't posted as much on this blogeroo. Sorry. (Gilly......)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-6462060197148565024?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/6462060197148565024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=6462060197148565024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/6462060197148565024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/6462060197148565024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/adventures-of-good-enough-mom.html' title='The adventures of Good-Enough Mom!'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-7820180126891606715</id><published>2009-09-15T11:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T11:34:12.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5 - My Superpower!</title><content type='html'>My superpower is remembering the phone number of the pediatrician's office while a citizen (BB) is screaming in my ear having been stung 3 times by a wasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's fine. I have him "grown up juice" as a treat (caffeine free diet Coke). Now he sleeps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-7820180126891606715?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/7820180126891606715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=7820180126891606715' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/7820180126891606715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/7820180126891606715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-5-my-superpower.html' title='Day 5 - My Superpower!'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5712956676226721282</id><published>2009-09-14T12:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:47:59.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 - sidekicks</title><content type='html'>Superheroes usually have sidekicks, right? Well, I guess Spiderman doesn't, and Superman doesn't, but Batman does. Maybe Batman is the only one with a sidekick, so that kind of blows my theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But they all have tools, right? Like Batman has those little sharp bat thingies to throw, Superman has a cape, etc. So I shouldn't feel badly about not being able to do everything on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Supermom has Curious George. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daily realization -&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; I can do everything! Just not all at once.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I get an amen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5712956676226721282?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5712956676226721282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5712956676226721282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5712956676226721282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5712956676226721282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-3-sidekicks.html' title='Day 3 - sidekicks'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-1237840086116308705</id><published>2009-09-13T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T14:26:28.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Supermom Plan - Day 2</title><content type='html'>It's the Sabbath. Supermom gets a day off and functions as a mere mortal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-1237840086116308705?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/1237840086116308705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=1237840086116308705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/1237840086116308705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/1237840086116308705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/supermom-plan-day-2.html' title='Supermom Plan - Day 2'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-9136130544841450361</id><published>2009-09-12T06:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T08:06:02.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 - Supermom Plan</title><content type='html'>OK, folks, summer's over. And (gasp) you can actually sense that from the weather in Texas these past few days! It has been rainy and cool. We haven't seen rain like this for months and months, and it is a welcome change. But actually now I'm ready to get these boys outside again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house is eerily quiet. I guess Supermom would figure out why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supermom's telepathic powers would have told her that while she was, er..., "resting" (you know, in the room of rest) the superkids had gone outside in the front yard on their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is well on "Planet Mom" (stealing this title from MOPS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently my definition of "Supermom" of two toddlers is that everyone is alive and relatively full at the end of the day. I know that Supermom is a myth and I can settle for "good enough mom," but that doesn't mean I can't make some improvements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Improvement need area #1 - activities for my super gifted, rambunctious, curious, busy big kid.&lt;br /&gt;Improvement need area #2 - a little more organizing and a little less facebook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not too much to think about for a start, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I'm thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still thinking...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-9136130544841450361?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/9136130544841450361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=9136130544841450361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/9136130544841450361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/9136130544841450361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-1-supermom-plan.html' title='Day 1 - Supermom Plan'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5022575697177329079</id><published>2009-09-05T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T17:52:27.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Neeto speedo.</title><content type='html'>Oh for heaven's sake give me a break - I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found my local knitting store. It's called Yarnivore. Although I've never been there before, how clever is the name Yarnivore? Get it? People who count on yarn for survival. OK yes, I lived happily before learning to knit, but it sure has helped me remain calm during all this moving business. Even though really Randy has done most of the hard work, it is emotionally stressful to move to a new city. I've sort of felt like knitting can be a constant weaving together of my two homes, old and new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I knit small projects like pot holders and drink cozies. I knit a coin purse, a sunglass case, and then a scarf. I asked some seasoned knitters about what I should learn for my next project and they suggested hats. So for the past month I've knit 5 hats! Four in my soft, purply Malabrigo from Gauge, and one in an orange from Michael's. I must say there is no comparison between a yarn sold at Michael's and one at a speciality yarn shop. I'm now totally hooked on the good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my nice friend Carly at Gauge helped me pick out a new project - a felted purse in a gorgeous wool blend called Noro Kureyon. This would certainly make a scratchy hat but a cool purse. I'm almost finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I had the boys at my wonderful mother-in-law's house for a few days. One of those days I took BB to visit his birthmom while I ran an errand to give them some quality alone time. I looked up the local knitting store and ended up walking out of there with an extremely soft and yummy chenille blend called Touch Me. Ooh, it's luxurious. I would like to swaddle myself in it and stay that way for a long winter's nap. The project must remain nameless, but I can't wait to finish it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm a knitting fiend these days. I'm hoping maybe it will help me lose a bit of weight because I'll be knitting instead of eating chocolate? Hmmmm. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post a picture of my WIP someday soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And no, I'm not planning on knitting a speedo. Never you fear.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5022575697177329079?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5022575697177329079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5022575697177329079' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5022575697177329079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5022575697177329079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/09/neeto-speedo.html' title='Neeto speedo.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-4116298975976950086</id><published>2009-08-14T09:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T06:43:19.687-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aza'/><title type='text'>I love my two boys!</title><content type='html'>But I'm hiding from them right now. LB has hit the "terrible twos" and things have gone haywire. Add that to not knowing where we are going to live in two weeks, I'm a little stressed. So that means "bye bye responsibility" for me as I let Randy work while I play Scrabble, Puzzle Spot, and Spot the Difference on Facebook. Best go relieve that sweet man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, here is BB. Let's see what he has to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ˛¸ccfefdsazs&lt;br /&gt;eeerw431112345780-=xxxxxxvbn,mmmmmbbbbbbgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggbbbbbbbbbbbbvvvvvvvvssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just officially didn't get the house we liked, but we expected that anyway.&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;BB says, "my turn my turn my turn." Here he is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnvvvvvvvvbvvvvvvvvvvaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuhjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-4116298975976950086?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/4116298975976950086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=4116298975976950086' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4116298975976950086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4116298975976950086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-love-my-two-boys.html' title='I love my two boys!'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-6320636266512776292</id><published>2009-08-10T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T18:35:52.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving thoughts.</title><content type='html'>No, not like emotionally stirring, but "moving" as a verb. We're still moving. Tomorrow we go visit with a realtor to look at rental properties. We decided that there was surely not enough time to prepare our home for the market, put it on the market, sell it, close on it, find a new place, close on it, move into it, and start work on the 8th. So a year lease will give us the chance to get to know the area and try out a neighborhood before committing to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lived in a rental house once. It was yellow on the outside and had wallpaper in the basement that was designed to look like a forest scene complete with deer. This is my preconceived notion of what a rental house looks like. Not pretty. But it was a roof, complete with a deer, and it kept us cool and then warm while we waited to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stress looks funny on me. I don't really feel stressed, and I don't tend to worry about things. But I do shut down in some ways, and then flare up when little things bug me. Little things like toddlers who won't listen, and 100+ degree weather all summer, and when I drop my last blueberry on the kitchen floor. Then I FREAK OUT! Also not pretty. So if you speak with me and I seem calm and happy about the move, it's an act. Well not really. I am excited about it. I think it will be fun. I will miss my friends and our life here, but we will build a new one in a new town soon. But it obviously is stressful, whether that stress manifests all the time or just an opportune moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Randy's new job will pay for the move! This is great for us. It means we really don't have to pack before they come, and the moving company will pack and move us. Unfortunately it will only pay for one move and of course we'll likely move out of the rental house in a year. But we'll go there when we get there, yeah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off we go tomorrow to find us a humble abode. I'll let you know what we come up with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-6320636266512776292?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/6320636266512776292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=6320636266512776292' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/6320636266512776292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/6320636266512776292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/08/moving-thoughts.html' title='Moving thoughts.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-7796551888298027125</id><published>2009-08-10T10:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T10:55:32.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More brotherly love.</title><content type='html'>My boys are having chasing racing time in the hallway. One pretends to fall and says, "Help." The other one comes and helps the first up. Or the fallen one will say, "hand," and the other helps him up. They are also feeding each other animal crackers and saying, "thank you." We are so blessed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-7796551888298027125?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/7796551888298027125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=7796551888298027125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/7796551888298027125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/7796551888298027125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-brotherly-love.html' title='More brotherly love.'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-4685547989156375125</id><published>2009-08-09T19:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T19:21:53.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brothers love each other</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sn-DIjr9J1I/AAAAAAAAA3A/DnwxKT3i08I/s1600-h/movie+buds+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sn-DIjr9J1I/AAAAAAAAA3A/DnwxKT3i08I/s320/movie+buds+1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368153463890716498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sn-DI69arLI/AAAAAAAAA3I/vKJgqkCeGKo/s1600-h/movie+buds+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sn-DI69arLI/AAAAAAAAA3I/vKJgqkCeGKo/s320/movie+buds+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368153470137969842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, cuteness. Tonight we had "movie night" and watched Finding Nemo. A little bit into the movie Randy pointed out that BB had filled the back of his toy train with popcorn and had climbed up into the chair with his little bro. I caught a video and some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These guys adore one another. They fight just like close siblings, too. Now LB is getting pretty beefy he can pull his big brother over and BB does not like the turn-about. Fair play! They are getting to be a handful, but a cute little bundle all the same. Here are some photos of tonight's movie night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-4685547989156375125?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/4685547989156375125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=4685547989156375125' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4685547989156375125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/4685547989156375125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/08/brothers-love-each-other.html' title='Brothers love each other'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sn-DIjr9J1I/AAAAAAAAA3A/DnwxKT3i08I/s72-c/movie+buds+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5348671843743560720</id><published>2009-08-06T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T07:49:45.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>LB wears Papa Bruce's ice cream hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrtdoYVdCI/AAAAAAAAA24/X6EZFKheLNo/s1600-h/IMG_9202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrtdoYVdCI/AAAAAAAAA24/X6EZFKheLNo/s320/IMG_9202.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366862999276844066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB and Mommy at a Rockies game. Spurs next. (Yes, I know, different sports!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Snrs6NADWCI/AAAAAAAAA2w/FlU5kBCkT1E/s1600-h/IMG_2737.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Snrs6NADWCI/AAAAAAAAA2w/FlU5kBCkT1E/s320/IMG_2737.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366862390631815202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BB loves music. And Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrsWtA-1AI/AAAAAAAAA2o/Sp5N2RUqEG8/s1600-h/IMG_2701.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrsWtA-1AI/AAAAAAAAA2o/Sp5N2RUqEG8/s320/IMG_2701.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366861780750357506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys babysit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrkRmrZd-I/AAAAAAAAA2g/RBaoi43lE7g/s1600-h/Micah+2+boys.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrkRmrZd-I/AAAAAAAAA2g/RBaoi43lE7g/s320/Micah+2+boys.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366852897056847842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5348671843743560720?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5348671843743560720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5348671843743560720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5348671843743560720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5348671843743560720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/08/babysitters.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/SnrtdoYVdCI/AAAAAAAAA24/X6EZFKheLNo/s72-c/IMG_9202.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-9056811511245307036</id><published>2009-08-05T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T15:19:40.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're moving!</title><content type='html'>If you'd have told me less than two months ago that this would be our last summer here (at least for now), I'd have either told you, "No way!" or bit you. (Biting is the primary mode of retaliation at our house these days.) A move couldn't have been farther off the radar. In fact we pretty much had an agreement never to leave our current city, we love it so much! But alas, we are moving next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how God has orchestrated this move. It's really been seamless so far. We adjusted well to the idea that Randy would be looking for work, and we figured it wouldn't be long before he would start interviewing here. He called on some contacts, sent out letters and resumes, and spent most of each work day looking for work. He talked to his former (and now future) colleagues at a company he used to work for, and went down to talk to them a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened to be perfect timing, as the company had a new client and some major needs they needed filled. Randy was the perfect fit and they hoped he would consider returning. We went down to look at neighborhoods last week, told them Monday that we'd be willing to move for the right offer, and heard today that a nice offer is in the works. On Saturday and Sunday we prayed and discussed the move. In our prayer time on Saturday I voiced the bold request that if this was not a good move for our family, that Randy would hear back from one of the local companies to which he sent a reume. He did. They said, "We're sorry, but for our present needs there were applicants that were more closely aligned to this position at this time." Not that this was on its own "a sign," but it did make me giggle a little. Apparently I didn't voice my prayer specifically enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I believe that God has a plan for us at our next gig? Yes! Do I think this would be the only decision God would bless? Not necessarily. But doors have certainly been wide open on this, and we are excited to proceed. The job and the company sound like they were created for Randy. We might not be willing to move for just an average job, but it seems to me that this one is too good to give up. So we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won't have time to sell our home if we were to look to buy another right away, so we'll likely rent a home for awhile. Our friend David, who knows everybody in Texas I think, referred us to a lovely and accomplished realtor who he knows. We spoke with her today and there is a good chance I'll also be attending Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) with her in the fall. We'll have to cancel our spot at the local Mother's Day Out program the boys are registered for next month, but we'll look for another one when we get settled. Then I have to figure out what to do with myself during that time. Unpack, perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well,  we wanted a little bit bigger house, but we certainly didn't expect to be buying one 90 miles from our current home! Oh well, we'll take it. It's not going to be easy, but I know God will provide for us in the way of a new church and new friends. Most importantly, He will always be with us no matter where we reside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Packing, eh? Yikes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-9056811511245307036?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/9056811511245307036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=9056811511245307036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/9056811511245307036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/9056811511245307036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/08/were-moving.html' title='We&apos;re moving!'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18024224.post-5459178784074325793</id><published>2009-07-28T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T13:38:52.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sm9eeU2kByI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/U-cbYVwqD9o/s1600-h/Easter.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sm9eeU2kByI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/U-cbYVwqD9o/s320/Easter.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609556308199202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a random picture, isn't it? I've posted it for a specific purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We might be moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, yeah. We'll see. Without giving too many specifics on the blog, because some deluded part of my brain thinks that if I don't give out specific personal information regularly on my blog then no one can "track us down" and show up on our doorstep asking for a clean place to stay, I'll just say that Randy is waiting to hear from a job in a town south of where we are now in Texas. It's a perfectly lovely town, in my uneducated opinion. But it's not our town. We love our town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved here in 2000 and I feel like God kind of swept me up and healed me here. There are many things to do and we have a wonderful church family and friends. Although we don't have family here (or there), we are close enough to Randy's mom to drive there in one shot without much trouble. We're also near Randy's brother's wife's parents so we get to catch Amy and Brad when they come to town. It's nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mixed feelings for sure. We love it here - did I mention that? We love our home and neighborhood. But mostly we love each other, so wherever we live we'll still be a family. That's the most important thing. So perhaps you can be praying that God would clearly reveal His will regarding Randy's job situation and where we should live. We'd appreciate that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18024224-5459178784074325793?l=therkstandridges.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/feeds/5459178784074325793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18024224&amp;postID=5459178784074325793' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5459178784074325793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18024224/posts/default/5459178784074325793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therkstandridges.blogspot.com/2009/07/easter-2009.html' title='Easter 2009'/><author><name>Amy T. S.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04763436797787443032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11224586551553933378'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BhX9e2B0pzM/Sm9eeU2kByI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/U-cbYVwqD9o/s72-c/Easter.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>