<?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-8521894772653624067</id><updated>2009-10-13T02:13:41.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wandering Plate</title><subtitle type='html'>My brother-in-law says that women in my family have a curious habit of carrying their plate around while they eat. He calls it “the wandering plate.” While some of it comes from simple busyness at meal time, I think it comes from an innate need to nourish the body and soul of those around us. We are last to fill our plate. Then we wander, moving from person to situation, to continue the nourishing process beyond just filling a belly. May my wanderings fill your soul as they do mine!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-112451138099405590</id><published>2009-07-30T21:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T21:59:27.125-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Contents of My Small Brown Purse</title><content type='html'>My husband says that I should occasionally take everything out of my purse/bag and make a list of everything in it...for my posterity...so they can see how much junk I carry. I think it is kind of a fun, clever way to capture a bit of my own personal history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the contents of my diaper bag that I usually carry are extensive, to say the least, I thought I would record what's in my "kid-less" purse a/k/a the purse I carry when I have no children with me. It was the last bag I carried today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pink water bottle, half full&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Package of Dentyne gum, spicy cinnamon (my favorite)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Package of cute striped note card from the $1 spot at Target. I think they are still there from a baby shower I went to last week that I never actually wrote a card for.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Bright Tastiness" Weight Watchers coupon book&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Check book with three checks left (the first check in the book was written almost a year ago for tithing; the last check was tonight for a weight watcher's meeting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;$20 bill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Weight Watchers pocket guide and daily food/activity tracker&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Two napkins from Chipotle restaurant&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Four receipts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wallet including the following: driver's license, insurance card, credit card, debit card, "MasterInCharge" card, library card, blood donor card (B Positive), Sam's Club card, Borders Rewards card, New England Aquarium Membership card (expired), Price Chopper grocery store advantage card, current temple recommend&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cell phone (last phone call: my husband called me on his way to work the midnight shift looking for a phone number for someone in our ward)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;So what stories does your purse tell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-112451138099405590?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/112451138099405590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=112451138099405590' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/112451138099405590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/112451138099405590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/07/contents-of-my-small-brown-puse.html' title='The Contents of My Small Brown Purse'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-4507131863880382473</id><published>2009-07-27T23:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T23:40:24.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Legacy</title><content type='html'>Sunday morning I got a phone call from the ward organist saying she had a sick child and asking if I would fill in for her. I love to play the organ and readily agreed. The closing hymn was "Come, Come, Ye Saints." As I sat tucked behind my extra-large print hymn book playing that hopeful hymn, my heart was touched. I was overwhelmed by the spirit of those early saints and the sacrifices they made to live close to the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears come easily to me and this was no exception. With both my hands and feet busy and a corner of my eye committed to watching the music director keep the beat, I hardly had a second to compose myself. In the end, I couldn't. By the middle of the second verse the tears were hot and stinging and by the third verse they spilled over and streaked my face. By verse four I was lucky I could see the music at all for the abundance of tears and they began to drip down and splash onto my lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suspect no one saw my moment of emotion. That moment, however, was one deep in my soul and long in the making. My pioneer heritage is one I've always treasured. I want to make sure my children know the stories that have most blessed me and have left such strong impressions on my faith. It is impossible to separate me from my forebarers. I thought I'd record a couple of my favorite stories and memories of important people in my life and family history. I'll probably do them one at a time as time and a little memory touch up allow. I am certain that one reason we are to do our family history work is that we might become more well rooted in who we are, understand where we came from and go forward armed with the knowledge of where our ancestors were going and how we, too, might get there. My stories hail from Norway, Wales, England and New Zealand and trecks West for the most part. But I think I'll also include some of those stories of my loved ones who have braved new roads in other ways. It is vital that I remember these people and their experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just this past Saturday I was sitting in the Celestial Room of the Palmyra Temple stuck in a moment of befuddlement when I quieted my mind and suddenly had the words, "all is well, all is well" enter my thoughts. I sense that recording these memories will help me sort out some of the things that are on my mind lately. So between peanut butter sandwiches, long swims in the pool, and the piles of laundry to do and floors that need mopping, strength will find me as I find the strength of those who have gone before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-4507131863880382473?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/4507131863880382473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=4507131863880382473' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4507131863880382473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4507131863880382473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/07/legacy.html' title='Legacy'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-5094573791977581152</id><published>2009-07-22T21:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T22:25:58.136-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh to be Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE2Itc0JI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Q0cVBVI3wrw/s1600-h/Andrewthemagician.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 378px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE2Itc0JI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Q0cVBVI3wrw/s400/Andrewthemagician.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361470315737960594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is magic when my three-and-a-half-year-old son comes in the room. He is a delight to be around and everything he touches {or laughs at} just turns to gold. I thought with only a few short weeks before A starts his days as a preschooler and things will forever change, I'd pay a little photo tribute to my boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo above: A decided he wanted to be a magician one morning when we were folding laundry and he found his cape in the closet. He insisted that he needed a magician's hat and wand. We spent the rest of the morning looking at pictures online and in books until I had the exact picture that A wanted for his magician paraphernalia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, the beautiful cape was made by my sister-in-law, Juli, who even in the mist of her own suffering with a loosing battle with cancer made this for A's birthday. We just got word that Juli is only anticipated to live a few more weeks. What a fitting tribute from my son that he should want everyday to wear that cape made by the aunt whom he prays for in every prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE137lj6I/AAAAAAAAAi4/aE3r-ijjK4Y/s1600-h/AndrewSmithFamilyFarm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE137lj6I/AAAAAAAAAi4/aE3r-ijjK4Y/s400/AndrewSmithFamilyFarm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361470311233851298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Smith Farm in Palmyra, NY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE1kedEuI/AAAAAAAAAiw/P-ydLigmfZE/s1600-h/andrewsacredgrove2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE1kedEuI/AAAAAAAAAiw/P-ydLigmfZE/s400/andrewsacredgrove2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361470306011386594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sacred Grove, Palmyra, NY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE1b9paOI/AAAAAAAAAio/f_8lGnPpI20/s1600-h/andrewryanINfarm2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE1b9paOI/AAAAAAAAAio/f_8lGnPpI20/s400/andrewryanINfarm2009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361470303726299362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cousins. West Lafayette, IN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE1A4BIxI/AAAAAAAAAig/ulpnnZsB0QY/s1600-h/andrewrapsberries.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE1A4BIxI/AAAAAAAAAig/ulpnnZsB0QY/s400/andrewrapsberries.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361470296454931218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Raspberries from our garden.&lt;br /&gt;J sent A into the house to give me a big fat raspberry on the first day of picking. A promptly showed it to me and ran out of the house. When J asked A how I liked the berry, A just shrugged. J asked what happened to the berry. A's response: "I think it accidentally got into my tummy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfENXCaQMI/AAAAAAAAAiY/oUuR-AySHBU/s1600-h/Andrewhelicoptor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfENXCaQMI/AAAAAAAAAiY/oUuR-AySHBU/s400/Andrewhelicoptor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469615209332930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Korean War helicopter at a local air museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfENBRmnWI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/SlLXhRGKPJA/s1600-h/andrewhappyhollowwaterfall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 319px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfENBRmnWI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/SlLXhRGKPJA/s400/andrewhappyhollowwaterfall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469609367477602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Hollow, IN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfEMpHQfaI/AAAAAAAAAiI/eT9D3p_bmSo/s1600-h/andrewfscampoutlogcabin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfEMpHQfaI/AAAAAAAAAiI/eT9D3p_bmSo/s400/andrewfscampoutlogcabin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469602881633698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Father and Son Campout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfEMZZefEI/AAAAAAAAAiA/1dohEEeODlQ/s1600-h/andrewfscampoutcleaning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfEMZZefEI/AAAAAAAAAiA/1dohEEeODlQ/s400/andrewfscampoutcleaning.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469598663081026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cleaning the mess hall at the Father and Son Campout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfEMMwH3nI/AAAAAAAAAh4/4lylVNy0WjE/s1600-h/andrewfathersoncampouttent2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 332px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfEMMwH3nI/AAAAAAAAAh4/4lylVNy0WjE/s400/andrewfathersoncampouttent2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469595268406898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Avoiding the rain while hiding out inside the tiny pup tent at the Father and Son Campout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDwT1SSxI/AAAAAAAAAhw/otyPOiKB498/s1600-h/Andrewdancingatpark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDwT1SSxI/AAAAAAAAAhw/otyPOiKB498/s400/Andrewdancingatpark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469116132772626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dancing on a Thursday night at a local concert in the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDwA_vsFI/AAAAAAAAAho/2QbjsvfvCFI/s1600-h/andrewcloseuppebble.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDwA_vsFI/AAAAAAAAAho/2QbjsvfvCFI/s400/andrewcloseuppebble.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469111076368466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;An geologist in the making: "take a picture of my rock, Mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDvgWSDJI/AAAAAAAAAhg/76NXKD4aPJs/s1600-h/andrewcloseupglass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 364px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDvgWSDJI/AAAAAAAAAhg/76NXKD4aPJs/s400/andrewcloseupglass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469102312524946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Or and archeologist: "Take a picture of this piece of glass I found."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDvf2PMhI/AAAAAAAAAhY/ut6r_iZVkeU/s1600-h/andrewbubbles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDvf2PMhI/AAAAAAAAAhY/ut6r_iZVkeU/s400/andrewbubbles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469102178120210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blowing bubbles for Dad for Father's Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDvOH8LuI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/XyK3Gezfriw/s1600-h/andrewandrhino.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfDvOH8LuI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/XyK3Gezfriw/s400/andrewandrhino.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361469097420533474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hoggle Zoo, April 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-5094573791977581152?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/5094573791977581152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=5094573791977581152' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/5094573791977581152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/5094573791977581152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/07/oh-to-be-three.html' title='Oh to be Three'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SmfE2Itc0JI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Q0cVBVI3wrw/s72-c/Andrewthemagician.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-8521894772653624067.post-3540982069475001837</id><published>2009-06-07T22:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T22:19:56.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Child's Prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/Six1Gbq_0mI/AAAAAAAAAgA/qzyfGTIr0vA/s1600-h/P4200435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/Six1Gbq_0mI/AAAAAAAAAgA/qzyfGTIr0vA/s400/P4200435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344775611149701730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting A to pray can be a chore. He just doesn't want to sit still and calm down his little body. This morning he came into my bedroom while I was kneeling down to say my morning prayers. He has learned to be quite and save his questions for when I am done.  Later he saw his father kneeling in the office saying his prayers as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came in and told me that he'd forgotten to say his morning prayers and told me he was going to go pray. I asked him if he needed help and with an excited little "no" he ran off to kneel by his bed. I listened from the kitchen as he offered the sweetest (and longest without-help) prayer. He asked Heavenly Father to help him feel the spirit at Church today, among other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all the poking and prodding and reminding and asking and crying and laying prostrate rather than kneeling that happens, it is moments like this that make me think that maybe, just maybe I'm doing something right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Photo: Hoggle Zoo, Salt Lake City, UT April 2009)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-3540982069475001837?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/3540982069475001837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=3540982069475001837' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/3540982069475001837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/3540982069475001837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/06/childs-prayer.html' title='A Child&apos;s Prayer'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/Six1Gbq_0mI/AAAAAAAAAgA/qzyfGTIr0vA/s72-c/P4200435.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-1697314530877721577</id><published>2009-05-09T23:16:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T23:40:12.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother's Laundry</title><content type='html'>One of my favorite stories my mother tells is about a day when she was drowning in &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt;. She had five or six children at the time and was feeling a bit overwhelmed. She thought to herself as she sat among the mounds of &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt;, "what would the Savior think if he came into my house right now?" Immediately the impression came to her that he would just sit right down and help her fold &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many ways I take after my mother. I'm not a spotless house keeper. I have a somewhat short attention span for lengthy projects. I tend to have a bit of a temper sometimes. But, I also hope that I am as kind as she is. I hope that I love the Lord as much as she does. I hope that I will always be willing to do and serve in any capacity that is required of me, just as she has and continues to do. I hope that I can learn to listen to the spirit as carefully has she has though out her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is a joy to have in my life. Growing up she used to always tell me how important it was to be well rounded. Mostly I'd roll my eyes and head off to another piano lesson, or tennis match, or to write a story for the school paper. She really believed that talents came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. She is my inspiration in many of the decisions I've made in my life. She encouraged me to do and be anything I wanted. There was no limit to my capacity. For the most part I've taken that philosophy and run with it. I hope that when I grow up I might be like my mom and be the same kind of inspiration to my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, Mom, for always seeing in me what I couldn't see in myself or could only just catch a glimpse of at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to you on this &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mother's Day.&lt;/span&gt; Here's to all the &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt; that never got folded. Here's to the moments that will be sweet in my memory because I let the &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt; slide. Here's to the most noble calling a woman can have. And I learned it all from my mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-1697314530877721577?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/1697314530877721577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=1697314530877721577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/1697314530877721577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/1697314530877721577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-mothers-laundry.html' title='My Mother&apos;s Laundry'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-2062263688878314205</id><published>2009-05-05T19:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T19:17:51.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You Might Need a Haircut When...</title><content type='html'>About six weeks ago I lost my favorite hairclip. It's torteous shell. It holds my hair well. I tried to buy some news ones and the Target I went to didn't have any. Then I went on vacation for a few weeks. I took a hairdryer and didn't even take it out of my suitcase. I rarely dry my hair. I don't usually need to because I like taking night showers and have naturally curly hair. Last Sunday I had to take a morning shower and got out the hairdryer to dry my hair for Church and found that the hairdry was broken. In that moment I realized that between my missing hairclip and my broken blowdryer, I have worn my hair in a ponytail every single day for nearly two months. It is probably time to get a haircut. I always say when all I ever do is put my hair in a ponytail, it is time to get it cut. Maybe that will motivate me to get a better start on my day and get my feet under me a little better so I feel a little more forward-looking on tackling the tasks of the day. Thanks, Tisha, for the reminder that doing your hair can make a big difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-2062263688878314205?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/2062263688878314205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=2062263688878314205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/2062263688878314205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/2062263688878314205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-might-need-haircut-when.html' title='You Might Need a Haircut When...'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-4907692652815365223</id><published>2009-04-26T18:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T22:00:34.831-04:00</updated><title type='text'>13.1 in 2:24</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SfTnjQ0I9UI/AAAAAAAAAcg/mcQUKs39T8c/s1600-h/slcmarathon1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SfTnjQ0I9UI/AAAAAAAAAcg/mcQUKs39T8c/s400/slcmarathon1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329138852081235266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SLC Half Marathon was so much fun. I ran 13.1 miles in just over 2 hours and 24 minutes, a little slower than I had planned, but I finished. (That was the first question my primary class asked me today, "Did you finish?") I ended up running the 1/2 marathon with two sisters, one brother, one-brother-in-law, and one (and only) husband and, somewhere in the crowd, my good friend Maren who got me started in this whole business. My sister-in-law ran the 5K. My brother ran the 1K with five of my nieces and nephews. Two other sister and two other brother-in-laws along with my kids my parents and a few other nieces were fantastic cheerleaders throughout the race course. My Colorado sister planned on coming, but she got snowed in and couldn't get out of town due to the three feet of snow that fell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents were at the bottom of one giant hill at about about mile 11. I was about ready to walk the rest of the way and then I saw them with my two boys and that got me motivated to push through and keep going. By that point my arms of all things were just aching. Next time I'll work on upper body training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the way up the hill I just kept thinking that when I turned the corner onto South Temple I'd be right there at the Salt Lake Temple. When I saw the temple I started to cry. For anyone who has read my previous blog entries about running when I cry, you'll remember that I tend to hyperventilate. This was no exception. I had to calm my self down and just breath. I was about a half a mile from the finish line and felt so grateful that I'd come so far and was almost there. It was like this great metaphor for life. We work hard, we prepare and we pass through difficult moments, but, seeing the temple reminded me that, just like in the race, life is so worth the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J and I crossed the finish line together and it was so great to finish with him (he hardly broke a sweat, by the way). I thought I might die for the hour following. But I think it was just lack of sleep and eating the wrong food before I ran (and the night before, and well frankly, the whole week before). It was amazing. It was a stretch physically and mentally. I learned a lot and will do a few things differently next time... and yes I plan on there being a next time. Who wants to do it next year? Hopefully there will be other chances for races later this summer and fall that are closer to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sorry to those of you we planned on seeing and didn't get a chance to see. Having the two boys by myself for two weeks turned out to be way more stressful and exhausting than I imagined. We do love you and hope you will still be our friends anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a little like Paul when he wrote to Timothy, "I have fought the good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-4907692652815365223?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/4907692652815365223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=4907692652815365223' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4907692652815365223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4907692652815365223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/04/131-in-224.html' title='13.1 in 2:24'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SfTnjQ0I9UI/AAAAAAAAAcg/mcQUKs39T8c/s72-c/slcmarathon1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-6434036577248214801</id><published>2009-03-17T23:30:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T00:02:22.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatcha' Reading?</title><content type='html'>"I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think that decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves." -Anna Quindlen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my free time lately I've been doing a lot of reading (that amounts to about twenty minutes or so a day, by the way). I've just read and am reading two books that have compelled me to take a deeper look at how I'm doing to truly live my religion as a practicing Christian. I just finished &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Three Cups of Tea&lt;/span&gt; and am currently reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Robe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Three Cups of Tea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is a true story of one man who fights poverty, illiteracy, and terrorism by building schools and doing other humanitarian projects in Pakistan and Afghanistan. The book focuses on educating girls in particular. We must never underestimate the role a bright and confidant woman can have in the lives of her children and those around her. More than anything the book has made me take a hard look at this war that we are fighting. I think I've all but ignored it mostly out of habit. I took and interest to it when I read the fantastic book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Thousand Splenid Suns&lt;/span&gt; and then the interest waned. This story, however, is true and really give me hope that good will prevail. It also forces me to face the idea that I do very little community service. I tell myself that my family and my church responsibilities keep me busy enough. But I feel like those are just excuses some times. There is more to me and I would do well is get out of my comfort zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Robe&lt;/span&gt; is an entirely different book. It is the fictitious story of the Roman soldier that got Jesus Christ's robe after the Savior's death. I'm still working through this book, but so far I'm intrigued by what Christianity must look like to one who has not been raised in the Judeo-Christian tradition. The philosophical exchanges between characters show how there are questions and problems like who we are, where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going that resonate with every religious, and irreligious, tradition and culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book also makes me think about my outward oblations as they compare to my inward commitments and covenants. The church to which I belong has a number of rites and rituals that are a physical outward reminder of our personal covenants. This was a way of life--to the extreme--for the Jews 2,000 years ago. I often find my mind wandering and wondering about the sincerity of my outward worship. As do most people, I believe that my actions are sincere. I avoid hypocrisy, but also acknowledge that I am far from perfect and too often give in to my lesser human nature (like the way I just polished off half a package of cinnamon graham crackers while writing this blog entry). The author paints a remarkably ugly picture of the Sanhedrin in particular. They embody and define hypocrisy. On the other hand, Christ is a real and super-read being in this book. People can identify with him, yet he is so much more than a leader and a king. I think I forget what a personal connection that is well maintained with Christ himself can do for my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both books have made me look more introspectively into how I spend my time, who I am helping and how I live what I know to be true. Both are good reads and worth the time and effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-6434036577248214801?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/6434036577248214801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=6434036577248214801' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6434036577248214801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6434036577248214801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/03/whatcha-reading.html' title='Whatcha&apos; Reading?'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-3531441537017506198</id><published>2009-02-24T22:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T23:06:54.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary</title><content type='html'>Last week J and I celebrated our seventh anniversary. We had a fantastic evening, thanks to a couple in the ward who came and watched out kids. We went dancing and had a private ballroom dance lesson at a local ballroom dance studio and then went out to dinner. The dancing was so much fun. We used to dance a lot, but it's been a while. I had to dust off at least two years of dust on my dancing shoes. It was so nice to just be with my husband and doing something that did not involve children, work, or money discussions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to another fantastic seven years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-3531441537017506198?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/3531441537017506198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=3531441537017506198' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/3531441537017506198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/3531441537017506198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-anniversary.html' title='Happy Anniversary'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-3579164313952775016</id><published>2009-02-24T22:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T22:59:16.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hyperventilating on The Treadmill</title><content type='html'>Saturday I was doing a five mile run and decided to load up my iPod with some new music. Almost as an afterthought, I put on a song by Hillary Weeks called "Come Take Your Place." (Thank you, thank you Jennie for giving me the Time Out for Women CD.) It isn't exactly fast-paced running music, however.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was pushing through at about mile 4.5 the song came on. Saturday's run had been very introspective and I had spent a lot of time thinking about where I'm going (I mean besides no where very quickly on my treadmill) and what I'm doing with my life. A was playing in the playroom next to me and I could see him coming in and out building things and, of course, crashing them down. As I listened to this song and watched my son, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude for the place I am right now in my life. I was meant to be here, now. I was meant to be the mother of these beautiful boys. I was meant to stand with my amazing, loving husband. This is my place, even that part where I teach occasionally unruly six, seven, and eight-year-old primary kids. I have no regrets about passing on grad or law school (for the time being). I have no regrets leaving a career I enjoyed to choose to be a full-time, stay-at-home mother. If anything I appreciate those choices more because I MADE the choice. I understand there are certain expectation as women of faith and I understand that I must find that path through my own faith and prayers. I have much to do and much to live up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's me, crying my eyes out as I'm touched by this song and suddenly I realize, "I'm running five miles an hour and, wait a second. I can't breath!" I was literally hyperventilating. That is not a good feeling. So I'm trying to get a hold of my self, because, silly me thinks, "But I'm not to five miles yet!" Eventually I got my emotions under control and could breath and of course, what did I do? I played the song AGAIN! Hyperventilating part II. Luckily I was a bit more prepared and quickly got my emotions in check. No passing out. No falling of the treadmill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was very worth the few tense moments of breathlessness to be remided how specific Heavenly Father's plan is for me and how I'm doing just fine because I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-3579164313952775016?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/3579164313952775016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=3579164313952775016' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/3579164313952775016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/3579164313952775016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/02/hyperventilating-on-treadmill.html' title='Hyperventilating on The Treadmill'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-8251302523178112861</id><published>2009-02-17T07:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T07:35:19.542-05:00</updated><title type='text'>650 Calories</title><content type='html'>Saturday night I needed to run 4 miles to be on track for my race training. J had all the extension chords in his car at work so I had to wait until after midnight to do my run when he came home and I could actually plug in the treadmill. J stayed up to keep me company while I did my death run during the middle of the night. Did you know that when you run 4 miles and then do some walking cool down you can burn 650 calories! I know. Crazy. It took me just over 55 minutes. I'm on track to run 10 miles this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-8251302523178112861?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/8251302523178112861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=8251302523178112861' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/8251302523178112861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/8251302523178112861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/02/650-calories.html' title='650 Calories'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-7876570109790692396</id><published>2009-02-12T19:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T19:32:50.451-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Socks Make The Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS7h3O8r9I/AAAAAAAAAZo/ZLW8R2OI7Pw/s1600-h/chellaesocks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS7h3O8r9I/AAAAAAAAAZo/ZLW8R2OI7Pw/s400/chellaesocks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302068851758641106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought some new socks to wear while I run. They are heavenly. I just love them. They are Champion brand and have an extra moisture wicking property that keeps my feet from getting too hot. They also have this awesome support portion that wraps around my arches. They are so comfy. I'm now in the market for some new running shoes. Do you have a favorite brand/style?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Training update: Last week I ran six miles and cross trained on Tuesday and Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the weather was almost 50 degrees and I got to run outside. I ran just over three miles. It is amazing how much faster I ran when I was just running sans treadmill. I had the thought when I was just finishing up that I had just run a 5K! Tomorrow I cross train and on Saturday I'll run 4 miles (on my treadmill, sigh... it will be too cold to run outside again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My theme song for this half-marathon is the Kung Fu Panda version of Everybody is Kung Fu Fighting. Check out the lyrics below. They give you a real shot of adreniline!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;Everybody is Kung Fu Fighting&lt;br /&gt;Your mind becomes fast as lightning&lt;br /&gt;Although the future is a little bit fright'ning&lt;br /&gt;It's the book of your life that you're writing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a diamond in the rough&lt;br /&gt;A brilliant ball of clay&lt;br /&gt;You could be a work of art&lt;br /&gt;If you just go all the way&lt;br /&gt;Now what would it take to break&lt;br /&gt;I believe that you can bend&lt;br /&gt;Not only do you have to fight&lt;br /&gt;But you have got to win&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;Everybody is Kung Fu Fighting&lt;br /&gt;Your mind becomes fast as lightning&lt;br /&gt;Although the future is a little bit fright'ning&lt;br /&gt;It's the book of your life that you're writing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooooouuhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a natural&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so hard to see&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just because&lt;br /&gt;You keep on looking at me&lt;br /&gt;The journey's a lonely one&lt;br /&gt;So much more than we know&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes you've got to go&lt;br /&gt;Go on and be your own hero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;Everybody is Kung Fu Fighting&lt;br /&gt;Your mind becomes fast as lightning&lt;br /&gt;Although the future is a little bit fright'ning&lt;br /&gt;It's the book of your life that you're writing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-7876570109790692396?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/7876570109790692396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=7876570109790692396' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/7876570109790692396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/7876570109790692396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/02/socks-make-woman.html' title='Socks Make The Woman'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS7h3O8r9I/AAAAAAAAAZo/ZLW8R2OI7Pw/s72-c/chellaesocks.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-8521894772653624067.post-4958211731840441133</id><published>2009-02-12T18:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T19:04:22.225-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Birthday Present for President Lincoln</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS2ZbrM-FI/AAAAAAAAAZY/SpM-qJ2Lflk/s1600-h/P2030151a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS2ZbrM-FI/AAAAAAAAAZY/SpM-qJ2Lflk/s400/P2030151a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302063209363863634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the 200th birthday of Abraham Lincoln and A thinks that is fantastic. We've been reading a beautifully illustrated children's chapter book about Abe's childhood. When I told A that it was good ol' Abe's b-day, I asked him what we should do to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: I don't know. Maybe we could get him a present.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, really. Like what?&lt;br /&gt;A: Maybe a bulldozer and a crane and a book about trucks.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hum, interesting idea. And anything else?&lt;br /&gt;A: And a train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always thinking of others. I was thinking he'd say something like make a birthday cake or something like that. We built many Lincoln log buildings in Abe's honor today. Here is a cute pictures of the boys and the Lincoln log towers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS3ISm7rrI/AAAAAAAAAZg/8NzoOp2QfXE/s1600-h/lincolnlogtower1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS3ISm7rrI/AAAAAAAAAZg/8NzoOp2QfXE/s400/lincolnlogtower1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302064014383886002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-4958211731840441133?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/4958211731840441133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=4958211731840441133' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4958211731840441133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4958211731840441133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/02/birthday-present-for-president-lincoln.html' title='A Birthday Present for President Lincoln'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SZS2ZbrM-FI/AAAAAAAAAZY/SpM-qJ2Lflk/s72-c/P2030151a.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-8521894772653624067.post-8036068081904891580</id><published>2009-02-01T22:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T22:36:34.384-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Progress..mostly</title><content type='html'>I ran six miles this week. Next week I will run seven miles to be on track in my training for the half marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only the other goals in my life where this easy to measure and have definite starting and ending points. (and to be honest, my goals are things like get up, change diapers, feed everyone--but not too much, and don't watch too much tv. I guess it's time to re-evaluate my long term goals)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone has tips on how to get your three-year-old to sleep past 4:30 am, we're all ears. Baby is sleeping great, but I'm exhausted thanks to my early riser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm taking tips on how to get motivated to get my house clean and organized. I'm sure part of it is just this frustration with our leaky roof. The drips have definitely slowed down or stopped for the most part. However, Friday a new spot started leaking. Sigh. All in due time I guess. The insurance agent sounded hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a bright note, we went to the temple this week and (thanks to Stella) actually got to do some sealings together. Additionally we feel like we got some much needed peace of mind with regards to some thing things that have been leaving us a bit unsettled. Remarkable how personal revelation works. How blessed we are to have that wisdom and knowledge. Anyone want to foot the bill for $20,000 a semester for J to go back to grad school to study, of all things, nuclear engineering?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-8036068081904891580?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/8036068081904891580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=8036068081904891580' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/8036068081904891580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/8036068081904891580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/02/making-progressmostly.html' title='Making Progress..mostly'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-6873594569383355204</id><published>2009-01-26T19:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T19:55:08.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Testimony of A Three-year-old</title><content type='html'>Our son has been asking to bear his testimony in church for the last couple of fast Sundays. We ascribe to the counsel that little children should be given a chance to share their testimonies at home until they are older. So, we've been having a little testimony meeting during family home evening the last few weeks. Tonight's testimony was classic: I know this Church is true. I know the temple has lots of doors. I'm thankful we get to have banana splits. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-6873594569383355204?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/6873594569383355204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=6873594569383355204' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6873594569383355204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6873594569383355204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/01/testimony-of-three-year-old.html' title='The Testimony of A Three-year-old'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-4612875402559694397</id><published>2009-01-25T23:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T00:19:59.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Salt Lake City Half Marathon Here I Come!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SX1DDJq_JgI/AAAAAAAAAYA/Dj-y8PtEH6g/s1600-h/slc_logo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 129px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SX1DDJq_JgI/AAAAAAAAAYA/Dj-y8PtEH6g/s400/slc_logo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295462458272458242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm putting together a team (a/k/a running buddies) to run the Salt Lake City Half Marathon on April 18. If you'd like to join us, we'd love to have you. Two of my sisters are already on board and I've got another couple of people thinking about it. Here's the &lt;a href="http://www.saltlakecitymarathon.com/"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; to the website. They have a fantastic expert training program (for all levels from beginner to advanced) that helps you plan, track, and monitor your progress. It cost $60 for the half marathon. There is a 5k if you're looking for something more low key and a full marathon for those looking for a challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask yourself: "Can I give more?". The answer is usually: "Yes".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="italic"&gt;Paul Tergat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to see you in the top of the mountains come April!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-4612875402559694397?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/4612875402559694397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=4612875402559694397' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4612875402559694397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/4612875402559694397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/01/salt-lake-city-half-marathon-here-i.html' title='Salt Lake City Half Marathon Here I Come!'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SX1DDJq_JgI/AAAAAAAAAYA/Dj-y8PtEH6g/s72-c/slc_logo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-6831192498882123134</id><published>2009-01-22T07:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T08:06:46.262-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Water Dripping from Everywhere</title><content type='html'>So, we have a leaky ceiling...in four different places! We have had so much snow and ice build up that  that the bottom layer of ice closest to the roof started melting and getting under the shingles and running into the house and pooling up on the ceiling and finally came through. These are officially called ice dams. We've never had them before, so this is a new and crazy experience. Water dripping through one of the lights in the kitchen, water dripping in a spot in our office, water dripping between the walls of the laundry room, water dripping over A's bed. J accidentally put a hole through A's ceiling where the drywall was soaked and the insulation was also sopping wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're doing everything we can to prevent heat from our house from escaping through the roof and cause more melting. Unfortunately there is not a whole lot we can do until the ice is completely gone (a/k/a when spring comes), even though I've been up there carefully chipping away what ice I can. Yesterday when we were saying family prayers, J asked Heavenly Father to heal our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've spent everyday many hours a day for the last several days trying to deal with this. The insurance claims person will come this week and tell us what it will cost to clean, replace, and repair everything. For as overwhelming as it has been at times, I am not loosing sleep over it and know it will work out. We just keep working and trying to prevent more damage, clean up the exisiting mess and moving on. I'll post the great pictures when I have a few more minutes to catch my breath and upload them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-6831192498882123134?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/6831192498882123134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=6831192498882123134' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6831192498882123134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6831192498882123134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/01/water-dripping-from-everywhere.html' title='Water Dripping from Everywhere'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-5116432496251297290</id><published>2009-01-02T11:20:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T11:25:46.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Best Life -- 2008 Year in Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a5130f6a35a01aff" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param 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src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-5116432496251297290?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a5130f6a35a01aff&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/5116432496251297290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=5116432496251297290' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/5116432496251297290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/5116432496251297290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title='Our Best Life -- 2008 Year in Review'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-34378404489679210</id><published>2008-12-08T23:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:03:14.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Life</title><content type='html'>I have the best life! I love my family and enjoy the way they make me smile and laugh (and cry) and appreciate being alive.  May my two boys and my wonderful husband know how truly loved they are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/ST37GSS2HHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/eXaqbHZvdt0/s1600-h/PA190035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/ST37GSS2HHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/eXaqbHZvdt0/s400/PA190035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277650423756758130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/ST37GPkIXqI/AAAAAAAAAUM/38DCVu88mMw/s1600-h/PA190038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/ST37GPkIXqI/AAAAAAAAAUM/38DCVu88mMw/s400/PA190038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277650423023951522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-34378404489679210?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/34378404489679210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=34378404489679210' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/34378404489679210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/34378404489679210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/12/best-life.html' title='Best Life'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/ST37GSS2HHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/eXaqbHZvdt0/s72-c/PA190035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-2795030172777385403</id><published>2008-11-17T22:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T22:49:28.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Today I ate five servings of fruits and veggies, had plenty of water to drink, and have a clean sink. This is just a reminder to myself that even when I yell too much, eat too much, watch TV too much, and leave the laundry, scripture study and bill paying too long there are things that I am doing right. Tomorrow I may not have that clean sink again. Tomorrow I may not drink enough water. Tomorrow I will probably eat more than I should and neglect the laundry once again. But tonight I go to bed knowing that at least a few things are right in my world and that tomorrow I can try a little harder to do a little better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-2795030172777385403?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/2795030172777385403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=2795030172777385403' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/2795030172777385403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/2795030172777385403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/11/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-914145952354616233</id><published>2008-11-02T17:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T09:00:08.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A FewThings about Me</title><content type='html'>Since I've all but disappeared from the blogosphere since having had my baby, I'm just now catching up on other people's blogs from the last five or six weeks. As it turns out, two different people have tagged me to blog about six or seven weird or unusual things about myself (thanks Sandra and Erin).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here goes my list of side show attributes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have incredibly flexible toes, over which I have lots of control. I can spread them out really far and move them all independently from one another. I never knew this was unusual until I met my husband and he told me it was, well, different. It appears that our children can do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I love to watch the news and read the paper. Maybe this isn't weird, but I think it is becoming less and less common these days. Besides the front page and local news, I especially like to read the OBITUARIES. That is probably weird. I had a professor in college who got me into it. He read the section religiously because he said you could learn a lot about someone from their obit and you can keep track of those who you know or loved ones of people you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I hate being scared. I don't like scary movies; I don't like roller coasters; I don't like being alone in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I am afraid of heights.  I think this is a derivative of an inner ear problem that also makes me extremely car sick and causes some balance problems. (Maybe that is why I dislike roller coasters so much.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I love to read cook books. I know some may think that is beyond boring. I've read lots of them--a couple just about cover to cover. I really enjoy seeing how things are made, the combinations of ingredients to achieve a desired outcome, and how I can experiment to modify the recipe according to what I have on hand or for a healthier version. (Note: I have read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Deceptively Delicious, Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook, William and Sonoma Grilling&lt;/span&gt;, and a couple of Weight Watchers cookbooks as well as three or four Relief Society cookbooks almost in their entirety.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. My mom used to say that you could tell what mood I was in according to what I was playing on the piano that day. I'd say that is still a pretty accurate gauge of my emotions, that is when I have a spare moment to play and my children will let me do it (A likes to dominate the keyboard just about every time I sit down to play).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I can watch the same movie an almost infinite number of times, depending on the movie of course. My husband says he can watch a movie once or twice and he's content to never see it again. I have probably seen the movie Annie at least 100 times. I've also see several Jane Austin movies at least thirty times. That said, I have only seen three movies more than once in the theater: The Saint with Val Kilmer (still one of my favorite movies), The Net with Sandra Bullock, and Napoleon Dynamite (all viewings at the dollar theater).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd be curious to see what the following people have to say about what they think is weird about them: Musemeg, Amy Lynn, and Lindsay (no rush since I know you just had a baby, too)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-914145952354616233?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/914145952354616233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=914145952354616233' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/914145952354616233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/914145952354616233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/11/fewthings-about-me.html' title='A FewThings about Me'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-8517440911984610865</id><published>2008-10-28T16:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T16:32:55.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Brief Baby Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SQd2SjN941I/AAAAAAAAASU/GK4keEu8iyg/s1600-h/DSCN3038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SQd2SjN941I/AAAAAAAAASU/GK4keEu8iyg/s400/DSCN3038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262304750669259602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minus the almost three-year-old who is having a rough time adjusting to a new sibling, we are all doing pretty well. I'm pretty tired and the baby has had a hard time gaining weight. He's been monitored for a little bit of jaundice, but is doing fine now. He seems to be on the up swing in gaining weight, though he is almost a month old and still isn't up to his birth weight yet. We decided to start a little formula supplementation and that seems to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My c-section recovery has had it's ups and downs. When things are calm I'm doing great. When things are stressful with A.B. or with the family around, or the garage project, I'm a lot more tired and achy. I'm having trouble with my incision being really painful on one side right now. I've got a doctor's appointment tomorrow to see what is going on. Hopefully it is just a sign of over doing it a little bit and not something more serious. It is painful enough at times, though, that I'm very glad I still have a few super heavy duty pain pills left, even though I can hardly function from sleepiness when I take them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J's dad and my dad have been helping work on our new garage and that has been stressful to say the least. I dread every time someone says "I'm just going to run to the store to pick up something" because they come back with $50 of stuff. Multiply that by the 20 times they've been to the store and we've far exceeded our original budget. Anyway, I think I've made my peace with the project and will have a fantastic collage of pictures and videos to blog about in the next couple of weeks when the thing is finished! I think I'll have J write a blog entry about all the life lessons he has learned over the last several months of moving this project along. By the way, the people at the project desk where we bought the garage package asked me if I wanted to come work for them. I've been there so many times in the last few months to ask questions and clarify or get help on something that they just about know me by name. I've become pretty proficient at construction work even though the only physical thing I've done on the project is nail in a few nails. I've been too sick, too tired, too pregnant or too sore to do much of the manual labor part. I should have gone into construction management!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I feel like sitting at the computer for more than five minutes I'll write up our birth story and post some more pictures of L on his baby blessing day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-8517440911984610865?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/8517440911984610865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=8517440911984610865' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/8517440911984610865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/8517440911984610865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/10/brief-baby-update.html' title='A Brief Baby Update'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SQd2SjN941I/AAAAAAAAASU/GK4keEu8iyg/s72-c/DSCN3038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-2806959861953545253</id><published>2008-10-04T07:10:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T07:56:17.259-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The baby came on Thursday. After a few hours of prep work, C. had a c-section. The baby arrived at 11:17. He weighed 7lbs 9.8oz and was 21 1/2". C. and the baby are both doing well and will come home tomorrow. Here are a few pics and a movie:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdSzagsqhI/AAAAAAAAAOc/VV9qKGYCYd8/s1600-h/PA020812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdSzagsqhI/AAAAAAAAAOc/VV9qKGYCYd8/s320/PA020812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253258533594245650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdTA5UzepI/AAAAAAAAAOk/DclYnCbjAd0/s1600-h/PA020816.JPG"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6a65bb7488cf1165" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAIiSxp13MRsP2RXZVN7myjLF-hmmhzZ18iqCrMNujlwmCq3YFZI9OV2N2yhiUnb6ei3zHHZWlYqyjIujDmcK_xYGdHLSY_a-NRNbs9IZz_3OX3RBXBG0SaoICTRq7K5PxyNnNoC18HKyeMaheSnYaFrygMGULtsOGtdh_JBFhBZ0QLV-hfdvewbHfJcCmdo_DFhAIrXlC3FTzSlBcWCOpjunKMCofZ3ZkMpujvUcqSqv%26sigh%3DX0dIluC6zhpTWYEopIwdDlQqZG8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6a65bb7488cf1165%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DzOOOq6o60HmqFtL4IP2wqRRspzA&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAIiSxp13MRsP2RXZVN7myjLF-hmmhzZ18iqCrMNujlwmCq3YFZI9OV2N2yhiUnb6ei3zHHZWlYqyjIujDmcK_xYGdHLSY_a-NRNbs9IZz_3OX3RBXBG0SaoICTRq7K5PxyNnNoC18HKyeMaheSnYaFrygMGULtsOGtdh_JBFhBZ0QLV-hfdvewbHfJcCmdo_DFhAIrXlC3FTzSlBcWCOpjunKMCofZ3ZkMpujvUcqSqv%26sigh%3DX0dIluC6zhpTWYEopIwdDlQqZG8%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6a65bb7488cf1165%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DzOOOq6o60HmqFtL4IP2wqRRspzA&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. was really excited to see the baby:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdTA5UzepI/AAAAAAAAAOk/DclYnCbjAd0/s1600-h/PA020816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdTA5UzepI/AAAAAAAAAOk/DclYnCbjAd0/s320/PA020816.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253258765204159122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdTLrbBTaI/AAAAAAAAAOs/5dWXrxS6XIM/s1600-h/PA020818.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdTLrbBTaI/AAAAAAAAAOs/5dWXrxS6XIM/s320/PA020818.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253258950450695586" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-2806959861953545253?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6a65bb7488cf1165&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/2806959861953545253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=2806959861953545253' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/2806959861953545253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/2806959861953545253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-baby.html' title='The New Baby!'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SOdSzagsqhI/AAAAAAAAAOc/VV9qKGYCYd8/s72-c/PA020812.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-6875410788022667343</id><published>2008-09-28T18:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T18:38:56.849-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The O.R. Playlist</title><content type='html'>In just a few days I'll be checking myself into the hospital to have baby #2. Since part of this delivery will be spent laying flat on an operating room table, I thought I'd go a little bit more prepared than last baby delivery. I'll go armed with good music. I'm loading my iPod (1) to keep me from having the panic attack I had when I was having a c-section with baby #1 and (2) to give me something to do while I'm being stitched up and I have some alone time when they whisk my baby and husband away for clean up, measurements, etc (baby, not husband).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what would you be listening to if you were in my shoes or, well, unsightly hospital gown? I'm working on a playlist and I'd love the hear your suggestions. I'll also be in the hospital for the better part of four days, but am only allowed to have the baby in my room (at least for the first two days) if someone else is in there with me (c-sections make you fairly immobile). So any great downloadable books, short stories or other fun ideas would be great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-6875410788022667343?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/6875410788022667343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=6875410788022667343' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6875410788022667343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/6875410788022667343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/09/or-playlist.html' title='The O.R. Playlist'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8521894772653624067.post-1879029396008086850</id><published>2008-09-21T04:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T18:20:58.834-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One of My Heros</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SNYapTV-bII/AAAAAAAAAOU/GkiFQnHnH6w/s1600-h/2006janeandkids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SNYapTV-bII/AAAAAAAAAOU/GkiFQnHnH6w/s320/2006janeandkids.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248411712616295554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had the chance to meet one of my heroes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane Clayson Johnson used to be the host of one of the nationally broadcast morning shows. She had a very distinguished career in broadcast journalism. However, when she met her husband, she decided to leave the work she had been doing to start a family. She received a lot of criticism from the industry. I met her two biological children yesterday and, I'll tell you what, I'd trade them any day for all the interviews with presidents of nations, celebrities, and anyone else news worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Johnson and her husband were in town from Boston for Brother Johnson's son's baptism. Brother Johnson is a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and his own teenage son from a previous marriage lives in our ward and decided to be baptized. The son has been coming to church for many months and I've associated with him through my calling in the Young Women's program. But I don't think anyone in our ward knew who Sister Johnson was before yesterday.  Oddly enough I had the thought  yesterday morning that maybe this young man's dad was married to Jane Clayson and I secretly hoped I'd get to meet her at the baptism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first heard Sister Johnson speak at BYU shortly after her daughter was born. She gave a speech that I think startled a few young aspiring females in the audience. She basically said you can't have it all, meaning children, career, happy marriage, all at the same time. There are times and seasons of life. Make the most of what you have in the moment, but don't put off the most important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's written a fantastic book called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Am A Mother. &lt;/span&gt;It is inspiring. I read it at a time in my life when I needed some reassurance that my life could be complete within my stay-at-home-mom life. She is as kind and amiable in person as I would imagine after reading her book. Her son is about a week younger than mine and is just as cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some may argue that the best kind of heroes are the people that you can observe day in and day out, someone close to you that you know. We live in a society that idolizes people for their sports prowess or their musical ability or their political power. While I'd never met this woman before, I feel a special connection to this woman who is a shining example of how to live your best life without compromising your best self. All said and done, it was just very, very cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in her own words: "Never be afraid to aspire to be a mother."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8521894772653624067-1879029396008086850?l=thewanderingplate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/feeds/1879029396008086850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8521894772653624067&amp;postID=1879029396008086850' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/1879029396008086850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8521894772653624067/posts/default/1879029396008086850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thewanderingplate.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-of-my-heros.html' title='One of My Heros'/><author><name>chellae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08946978744087810613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07203597119998639496'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gn1Xi5oOYRY/SNYapTV-bII/AAAAAAAAAOU/GkiFQnHnH6w/s72-c/2006janeandkids.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry></feed>