tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25264129128047983732024-02-21T00:54:45.927-08:00House of VickersUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-4408945582873439002014-01-08T20:58:00.002-08:002014-01-08T20:58:58.878-08:00Counting Stars...I am somewhat on a One Republic Counting Stars kick... And by somewhat I mean completely obsessed. It makes me want to do something! Be productive! Stop counting dollars and start counting stars!<br />
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On to other things. Tonight I went through photos from past shoots. To see the transformation in my photography from last year at this time to now is astounding. It makes me feel empowered! Like, shouting from the rooftops "LOOK HOW MUCH I'VE LEARNED" empowered. I am so unbelievably excited to see where my photography is by this time next year. Especially since my wonderful hubby gifted me a beautiful D610 for Christmas. He's in the running to be the star player in my "Favorite Things of 2014" list. Right along with Rocky Road ice cream (which I just discovered last year... How did I ever go without this godly concoction????), beautiful sunsets, beach days, and online shopping.<br />
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Now... Updates on my Little Monsters, who, let's face it, are quickly becoming not so little.<br />
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Mason Luke is now 8 years old, in the second grade, and a computer whiz. Not to mention, he is one good looking kid. And pretty hilarious to boot. (He gets all of the above from yours truly.)<br />
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Brady Parker is now 4 years old (and quickly approaching 5), in k-4, stinking hilarious, and quite the ladies man. I cannot keep up with how many girlfriends he has had and he has a new girl he plans on marrying every other week. This kid is going to be trouble when he hits puberty. And I am going to be one crazy mother-in-law one day. I don't like it. </div>
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And Ethan Cole.... My baby. My caboose. My hell on wheels, gonna give me a heart attack before I'm 35, crazy, hilarious, sweet when he wants to be, boy. The kid is a mess. And very sneaky. You have to watch this one. CLOSELY. The kid fell out of a second story window! You read that right. FELL. SECOND STORY. Just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach all over again. Scariest moment of my entire life. NOTE- He is FINE. He didn't have a single scratch on him. Yes I rushed him straight to the emergency room where they looked him over meticulously and responded with a "He is a boy and things will happen" to my heavy sobbing and freaking out and just knowing that DHR would be on their way (especially since we were in the SAME emergency room the weekend prior to this with the SAME KID who had just took a header into the entertainment center and had a knot the size of a golf ball sticking out of his forehead). Did I tell you the kid was going to give me a heart attack????? I wasn't joking!<br />
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He is my sweet, momma's boy. My nightly snuggle buddy. My love. My heart. My one way ticket to crazy town.<br />
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And just because it cracks me up and is too sweet not to share...<br />
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Brother love.<br />
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Good night, all. Time to count some stars.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-9098947560139894572013-12-22T18:25:00.001-08:002013-12-22T18:25:16.120-08:00LifeSometimes I find myself second guessing a large portion of my life choices. I suppose this is pretty common for folks. Especially at this time of year. The year is wrapping up and you start to evaluate where you are in comparison to where you started. If we look at my year in those terms, I suppose it was a good one. I mean, we moved into our new home, I landed the job I had been chasing for a solid year, the boys are healthy and, for the most part, happy.<br />
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But do those things really equal out to 2013 being a "good" year? </div>
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I am grateful for my many blessings, but I can't help but wish for something more. Not more in a material sense, but more in a fulfilling sense. </div>
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I had such high hopes for my future when I was younger. College, living on my own, meeting a nice guy, traveling, getting married, having the good career, and having babies. </div>
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Of course, I didn't quite take that path. I, being the stubborn person that I am, took the hard road. Do I regret that decision? Nah. Do I know that it would have been a million times easier had I done things differently? Absolutely. </div>
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I suppose my hard road makes me more inclined to WANT to show my children how to live their lives with passion and purpose. I WANT to be able to live my life in a way that encourages them to follow their dreams.</div>
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I suppose I am getting a jump start on goals for 2014. I want so badly to get back to me. I feel so off course and somehow strange to myself now that I can barely recognize myself. I don't want to be a shell. </div>
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And I certainly do not want my boys to grow up into shells of their former selves. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-84762604869596930532013-09-24T11:39:00.000-07:002013-09-24T11:39:13.090-07:00Recent Happenings and Such!<div style="text-align: center;">
LOTS of stuff happening!!! Exciting stuff! </div>
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We are in the process of buying a home, so boxes and newspaper have slowly taken over our home. (FYI- Packing with small children should be an automatic pass for free service from a moving company. Preferably one of the ones who pack up your stuff for you. And moves it. And sets it all back up. And all of that jazz. Does one of those companies exist? Please GOD tell me yes!)</div>
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What else is happening.... Photo sessions! Lots of photo sessions. And editing. And planning Christmas mini sessions. And looking at precious faces like this every evening as I edit while eating oreos and listening to Journey which we all know leads to interpretive dancing and not a lot of editing.... Or is that just me? </div>
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Oh goodness. Isn't she adorable????</div>
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Back to the point.</div>
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I also started a new job, which means a lot less free time then before. </div>
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But! As soon as we get moved I fully intend to dive head first back into blogging and more so into the photography! I am so excited! Be on the lookout for new and exciting things, because they are coming! </div>
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Samantha </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-34425201562943272442013-09-13T13:38:00.002-07:002013-09-13T13:38:39.735-07:00Hello. Is it me you're looking for?Guess who's back.... It's me! <br />
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My little family has LOTS going on right now (including a house FINALLY, a new job, more photography, and more little boy shenanigans), but I am making it a point to get back on the horse. <br />
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So hold on to your britches, folks. Samantha's back! Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-26518653093145818672013-03-07T08:04:00.002-08:002013-03-07T08:04:39.467-08:00Weeball has Begun! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tuesday night we had our very first Weeball practice (Weeball= Teeball for kids who are right under being too young for actual teeball).</div>
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To say Brady Parker loves it would be an absolute understatement. The kid was into it BIG TIME. </div>
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If the coach said run, the kid ran. </div>
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Jump, he jumped. </div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">And when it came time to bat..... Brady Parker was all business. </span></div>
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He took this practice about as serious as I take my Starbucks. And that, my friends, is serious. </div>
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I am so glad that he loves it. I am also glad that he is so willing to participate and be such a good sport. He ran for the ball every single time even if he was nowhere near it and he never once got upset that he didn't get it. </div>
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After they ran the bases, Brady lined up on the fence with his pals and told each one of them that they did a great job.</div>
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(insert huge, proud mom grin here)</div>
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The kid is one of a kind. I cannot wait to see what the rest of the season holds! </div>
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Second practice tonight!</div>
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Go Weebles! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-6003110844185008112013-03-04T08:08:00.001-08:002013-03-04T08:08:18.694-08:00Goats, WeeBall, and Ladies In Bubble Baths...<div align="center">
Do you know what I hate.... I hate when the entire weekend is insanely cold ( Mobile- 50 = insanely cold) and then Monday rolls around and it is gorgeously sunny and in the high 60s. What kind of crap is that! </div>
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Now... What did we do this weekend. Exciting stuff! That's what! </div>
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Thursday I started off the day how every normal human being starts their day. By photographing a chick in a bubble bath.</div>
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You read that right. Through a lot of experimenting I have figured out that boudoir sessions are my absolute favorites. Everyone loves to get dressed up and feel good about themselves and I love getting to capture that. Plus they are fun! So, that is how I started off my weekend. Photographing a lady in a bubble bath. Perfection. </div>
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The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful. I ate my weight in strawberries and nutella while editing the bubble bath boudoir session. </div>
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My youngest heathen, otherwise known as The Spawn, chunked the remote at our bedroom tv and shattered the interior. Phenomenal.</div>
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It was freezing outside so getting out wasn't really happening and staying in was resulting in broken tvs and breaking up more fights that the production crew on Flavor of Love. (Remember Flavor of Love????? Don't lie! You know you do!) Sunday, finally, it cleared up enough for us to get out a little. The boys raced rolling down a hill at one of our local public gardens while I photographed the happenings and quietly thanked Jesus for allowing me the opportunity to get those kids out of the house before I sold them as slave labor. </div>
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Then, oh and then. Then Mr. Brady Parker became the newest member of the Weebles WeeBall team. For those who are unaware, WeeBall is TeeBall for 3 year olds since TeeBall starts at 4. </div>
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Number 2 will be taking the field in just a few short weeks! </div>
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So, I officially a Ball Mom. Someone give me my minivan and mom jeans! Maybe not the mom jeans, but I will be rocking that Mom of #2 tshirt like it's never been done! </div>
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Gear up for copious amounts of ballpark photos, baby. Cause they're coming! </div>
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Who's ready for Spring! Because I am definitely feeling it this morning!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-16804344106413759882013-02-25T11:52:00.001-08:002013-02-25T11:52:44.543-08:00Blah. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGi2YLD_I0IvPe340s_7itD9DOp9T9UFJ-EgbHjjN7_F8he7xg2ULzk-VqLGOM8FQ6qNnsQ_WgLUYMbOM6uOwoP4WJcwyR296DPpPZpY7V5k2cS7IxxB8TIqsLdOoJB_-gKHr1u8-HYCGW/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGi2YLD_I0IvPe340s_7itD9DOp9T9UFJ-EgbHjjN7_F8he7xg2ULzk-VqLGOM8FQ6qNnsQ_WgLUYMbOM6uOwoP4WJcwyR296DPpPZpY7V5k2cS7IxxB8TIqsLdOoJB_-gKHr1u8-HYCGW/s640/2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This morning, while riding down the road in the pouring rain, I listened to my 3 year old speaking "T-Rax" in the backseat. T-Rax, if you didn't know, is apparently a series of grunts and growls used to communicate with a T-Rex. I, of course, needed him to translate. Which, unfortunately, is how I feel about a lot of talking going on around me lately. </div>
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I feel like a zombie. I get up, get everyone dressed, take everyone where they need to be, work, pick everyone up, take everyone home, and then get everyone through the evening and ready for bed. </div>
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It's automatic. </div>
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It's a schedule.</div>
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Every. Single. Day.</div>
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I feel like I am about to hit a wall. A very large, glitter free wall. </div>
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I feel like the sparkle is gone. How do you have sparkle when every single day is planned out? I feel like my sparkle is gone. Our small living space has completely zapped me of any creative juices. The chilly, rainy weather has zapped me of any adventure. </div>
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I feel like a shell. </div>
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I need change. I need creative outlet. I need warmth. I need space! </div>
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Is it spring yet?</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-49808455269634436212013-02-05T07:37:00.000-08:002013-02-05T07:38:26.289-08:00Weekends Are For... Mardi Gras! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Let me just paint a picture for you...</div>
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It's 2007 and Mason Luke is barely over 1 year old when I decide to brave the crowds and take him to the Crewe of Columbus parade. It would be just him and I, but my dad would be meeting us down there and his family would all be there to cheer on my uncles as they ride so I can handle it. </div>
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The parade itself goes off without a hitch. He seems to enjoy it about as much as any 1 year old would enjoy anything, so I chalk it up as a good decision. And then it was time to leave... </div>
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I load him up in the car, buckle him in, and start on my way through a maze of bumper to bumper traffic and a whole lot of sitting and waiting. Then it happens. He starts puking. And puking. And puking some more. </div>
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Ten minutes later my backseat looks like the bathroom of a frat house on a Sunday morning and I am stripped of my overshirt attempting to clean up a naked, cranky toddler as best as I can behind a Church's Chicken while herds of people scream at the parade still rolling. </div>
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An hour and lots of backroads later, I arrive home with puke in my hair and all over my car with a sleeping, naked toddler on my shoulder. Which is how I had to drive home. The ENTIRE way. </div>
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Mardi Gras- 1 Mom and Mason Luke- 0</div>
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After that super pleasant with child Mardi Gras, I haven't been in a hurry to attempt it again. Mason is 7 now and has not been to a parade since. </div>
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Until this past weekend. </div>
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And I must say, this time it was a much better experience. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tEDys2BEWnZFmzh6aJe5MDKjY1oI2pPd4eDSd7xNOG2VN8juaE91PUmwSVUDVtqzMGiJsmXtUqEKT9pgOb-_2cDV-_dLlVxRHMbv-5A_2sNEpGRUSr_MAyba-IrLF48SUHnSoRS-j6Nw/s1600/380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" jea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tEDys2BEWnZFmzh6aJe5MDKjY1oI2pPd4eDSd7xNOG2VN8juaE91PUmwSVUDVtqzMGiJsmXtUqEKT9pgOb-_2cDV-_dLlVxRHMbv-5A_2sNEpGRUSr_MAyba-IrLF48SUHnSoRS-j6Nw/s640/380.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The kid was a natural! This can be proven by the large sack full of stuffed animals we went home with. Stuffed animals who are slowly but surely running away to the Goodwill...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wN05MvU2pN40zbgiZv6HefYw9TRPszfhUVYpmCJea39VzWBnZo0g1yUVYEbLorEuD75bJ9FlAq0HK-b9I8wddR0uXFzs2zbD8wX-TIbToXpFuuvQqEmHGpZ0rJRggbdhvZ4HIu08zct2/s1600/386.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" jea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wN05MvU2pN40zbgiZv6HefYw9TRPszfhUVYpmCJea39VzWBnZo0g1yUVYEbLorEuD75bJ9FlAq0HK-b9I8wddR0uXFzs2zbD8wX-TIbToXpFuuvQqEmHGpZ0rJRggbdhvZ4HIu08zct2/s640/386.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0ZIJHJEf662rSg_E7xv0eunvWgd-hG-kxKDGSgxG_Y4GIJe-3CNMfOTSg13jszwGEbUIMD-F9Rvc9JCWIYWaG5Dh8U_rDj4kN4ByHNTUQxfAj66prTFIpN6qpr05GEqxH8GvH6x2lfP_/s1600/388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" jea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0ZIJHJEf662rSg_E7xv0eunvWgd-hG-kxKDGSgxG_Y4GIJe-3CNMfOTSg13jszwGEbUIMD-F9Rvc9JCWIYWaG5Dh8U_rDj4kN4ByHNTUQxfAj66prTFIpN6qpr05GEqxH8GvH6x2lfP_/s640/388.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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Happy Mardi Gras, Y'all!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-81917308475531922122013-01-28T07:33:00.002-08:002013-01-28T07:33:46.001-08:00Weekends Are For...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I believe that Mondays will officially be "Weekend's Are For" days. Little recaps of our weekend and what it had to offer. I know you can't wait. The excitement is radiating out of the computer screen. Who doesn't wan to see pictures of me in a hat and yoga pants because I was too lazy to get dressed. I know... No one. You eat that stuff up! </div>
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But I digress, plus that last statement was a little misleading because I managed to get dressed both Saturday AND Sunday. Boring. Because clean hair and decent clothes are boring.... HA! </div>
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As for the weekend.... It was for-</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">First time frog encounters... </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6soD6aMv44xMe8ThwfsR6FqbVS-AWGzavNNIdKvfGzq4pgbdhCSoPdqf3QT5-mrrSGEcQOT_Ycj1TyX064VrIAXbxp76Jtix6QMJYUP-BDaVthJ91HWbDHawy4ryXhyphenhyphenwh_2ECcF7FdO7/s1600/364.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_6soD6aMv44xMe8ThwfsR6FqbVS-AWGzavNNIdKvfGzq4pgbdhCSoPdqf3QT5-mrrSGEcQOT_Ycj1TyX064VrIAXbxp76Jtix6QMJYUP-BDaVthJ91HWbDHawy4ryXhyphenhyphenwh_2ECcF7FdO7/s640/364.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">First time touching a frog experiences... (that face is priceless)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoGQ1F0j55tkDZAbFj_kN6axAUSJ9osN8_F1bcUF6keMnP-Kayf_o7Du7DSm5LpTx7Iw29bpMh7e8HiPKXxc50mp6m4QGiyIRlR1o2H6NIzjaWuPaLwhenM_m-mVJ1CQl5MfKmKjcjFiz9/s1600/366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoGQ1F0j55tkDZAbFj_kN6axAUSJ9osN8_F1bcUF6keMnP-Kayf_o7Du7DSm5LpTx7Iw29bpMh7e8HiPKXxc50mp6m4QGiyIRlR1o2H6NIzjaWuPaLwhenM_m-mVJ1CQl5MfKmKjcjFiz9/s640/366.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Horseback rides at the expense of your brother...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkcc5s4YcJpP_r1LCQgGVoaVI1SpRgCNOfX-nWwHHHdOLt5V8DbYvsUkWW8-Bcybv6Z9k9BoXtX6EocCHp3AkpeIYGxoLgTVy8i5VrhEhVNRRfYDMMlT7woLAnGxMIxH77CrpxrC0RuGys/s1600/365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkcc5s4YcJpP_r1LCQgGVoaVI1SpRgCNOfX-nWwHHHdOLt5V8DbYvsUkWW8-Bcybv6Z9k9BoXtX6EocCHp3AkpeIYGxoLgTVy8i5VrhEhVNRRfYDMMlT7woLAnGxMIxH77CrpxrC0RuGys/s640/365.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dirty Faces.... (dirty serious faces)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWAxtMQy7Hmi06YnXuLJH3j1HoR1Da9-loxAin_JHKW9K7Nv3ssE48B0wxPb7vB8ElGZvDjbqL6AZKO3r8VgC2MPMpaVf0HmygERPelo9GBeFVgcOUIVV7jqy7poRf5whptcqErhuPWZwJ/s1600/367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWAxtMQy7Hmi06YnXuLJH3j1HoR1Da9-loxAin_JHKW9K7Nv3ssE48B0wxPb7vB8ElGZvDjbqL6AZKO3r8VgC2MPMpaVf0HmygERPelo9GBeFVgcOUIVV7jqy7poRf5whptcqErhuPWZwJ/s640/367.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bird Watching...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd2G7JYpefGdj_cGHRddWGFF-7lL79SAlqszg8bUnUz3FqO46xEbALm8Ki7EuuvzinV1zhSgG5cmWHVSgWT-IOfbACZLb5fL4MTCg2otT-9vsAWbMb9j0izFXKDfCjpz7voNC2_1gXUbD/s1600/368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd2G7JYpefGdj_cGHRddWGFF-7lL79SAlqszg8bUnUz3FqO46xEbALm8Ki7EuuvzinV1zhSgG5cmWHVSgWT-IOfbACZLb5fL4MTCg2otT-9vsAWbMb9j0izFXKDfCjpz7voNC2_1gXUbD/s640/368.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmbXuy3V7-YWDLa17deJJwtiG4UFs7mETy1mtcGW21DP8enmqHtqtdljSu6-ROpXdgGz1EPboqQU21gFEif9_6kbTK9Qv_ovQBX63i05aAAwyz7qSPYimdMQFTmb7pkhdnRx3WCMIm7ds/s1600/369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMmbXuy3V7-YWDLa17deJJwtiG4UFs7mETy1mtcGW21DP8enmqHtqtdljSu6-ROpXdgGz1EPboqQU21gFEif9_6kbTK9Qv_ovQBX63i05aAAwyz7qSPYimdMQFTmb7pkhdnRx3WCMIm7ds/s640/369.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sunset Exploring...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQ_N_l226S28TPjcimnjWPXWsLi_AfCKV2lCw5MxX3fywpF731-nmLWsjOlF7Fu_1neslvc7QF3YIrSxc3h6f7TgI4edqRxFB8O5vvJ7NsPu80-6OalMLMoqdlKnicswlQgdODikyvtTh/s1600/370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQ_N_l226S28TPjcimnjWPXWsLi_AfCKV2lCw5MxX3fywpF731-nmLWsjOlF7Fu_1neslvc7QF3YIrSxc3h6f7TgI4edqRxFB8O5vvJ7NsPu80-6OalMLMoqdlKnicswlQgdODikyvtTh/s640/370.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blue Eyes....</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9YfQWEr6UPLcc7uPv1b0RIeVnFUepKj0Wep0w7RKfLBmk7joPE8d9fofbT8uFyBoe0Sd8SeJWaBeC17C7sKAamA3yhb3hSk0oj5PJcdVnju9S0_umj8WQhOVB9XQZXFkzvtiz9ci0L-n9/s1600/371.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9YfQWEr6UPLcc7uPv1b0RIeVnFUepKj0Wep0w7RKfLBmk7joPE8d9fofbT8uFyBoe0Sd8SeJWaBeC17C7sKAamA3yhb3hSk0oj5PJcdVnju9S0_umj8WQhOVB9XQZXFkzvtiz9ci0L-n9/s640/371.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dirty fingers bringing you dead flowers and the words "Happy Anniversary, baaaaaaby" coming from your 3 year old.... (I have no clue where he gets this stuff)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOcXilCKm00cW4TGtkmDj9mqkSRIUrPQ4IJGllS8lNJvVhyphenhyphenfVOnNGCXVAo1cMKkgi25RTRIECCba_stDIhUMc5XX1eLj_aoNkIvMwMGvQs08LB4iVK_OHEuQjcGgaDKCfSW6Sz_4XpjdMo/s1600/372.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOcXilCKm00cW4TGtkmDj9mqkSRIUrPQ4IJGllS8lNJvVhyphenhyphenfVOnNGCXVAo1cMKkgi25RTRIECCba_stDIhUMc5XX1eLj_aoNkIvMwMGvQs08LB4iVK_OHEuQjcGgaDKCfSW6Sz_4XpjdMo/s640/372.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Stopping to smell the.... Camellias...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgs7Q8UOkreDZ-UC8_wIwhnsjPHdIuSG0pPlynxkamHtxZuaAQ-gjR2zsm04Uyh7nzt6ML7U3lgrhNSq6EnCZE4LoWQZyAlsceecAiqgNS9AIZ8m9ydkxdUqYOg-2uYvBGicsVBLC1COYc/s1600/373.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgs7Q8UOkreDZ-UC8_wIwhnsjPHdIuSG0pPlynxkamHtxZuaAQ-gjR2zsm04Uyh7nzt6ML7U3lgrhNSq6EnCZE4LoWQZyAlsceecAiqgNS9AIZ8m9ydkxdUqYOg-2uYvBGicsVBLC1COYc/s640/373.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Brotherly Love.... </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQuH5e2m2HkkA4fWXuUWzqojIYQsow1CjE3OteRW7ztsE9ibdKs1QQAbwMEQH2kZwEuZN57a7HQSKB-AkSUl15kxvb2J9Y2hKD93i91M2Rnl99l-Jeyk1b37TQlkQuq0yrryqrR-D4AIm/s1600/374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" oea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBQuH5e2m2HkkA4fWXuUWzqojIYQsow1CjE3OteRW7ztsE9ibdKs1QQAbwMEQH2kZwEuZN57a7HQSKB-AkSUl15kxvb2J9Y2hKD93i91M2Rnl99l-Jeyk1b37TQlkQuq0yrryqrR-D4AIm/s640/374.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Man I love those little hellions... </div>
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Happy Monday, All! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-2504660632004702922013-01-15T10:23:00.000-08:002013-01-15T10:23:49.971-08:00When I grow up...<div align="center">
Most people have that 'thing" that they have always known they wanted to do. Or at least everyone comes to a point of figuring out what that thing is.</div>
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Me.... Not so much.</div>
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Here I am, 26, and I still don't know what that is. Honestly, even when I really think about it there is nothing that comes to mind. Sure there is a whole lot of "well I enjoy this and that," but none of it is anything I want to do in a way of having demands put on it. Case in point- I LOVE photography. Love Love Love it. But when I start thinking about doing it professionally and having to put stipulations on it, it starts to ruin it for me. </div>
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I love to plan parties. LOVE to plan parties. But do I want to do it for a living and have people putting rules and limits on what I do and how I do it for the sake of being paid? Not at all.</div>
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Bottom line... There isn't really anything I feel like I want to do. I feel like I have no career drive. </div>
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Honestly, do you know what I want to do for a living? </div>
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Play. </div>
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Play. And decorate. And craft. And take beautiful photos. And shop. And have lunch. And bake. And garden. </div>
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Is there a paying job like that out there?</div>
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You know what else I would really like to have.... A little store. Kind of like a new age general store. Sell a little bit of everything along with baked goods and coffee. A place where people can hang out and relax and buy beautiful things. </div>
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Now, who wants to fund this project????? HA! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-77481632263071732482013-01-14T14:24:00.000-08:002013-01-14T14:24:14.754-08:00It's MONDAY! <div align="center">
Guess who has a crafty project or two in the works.... THIS GIRL! Whaaaa???/ </div>
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That's right, folks. This gal has got her crafty britches on and she is wearing them well. </div>
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Quite possibly like she is being featured on a Martha Stewart segment. </div>
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That reminds me.... Does anyone else talk their way through a project even though there is no one to talk to? </div>
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Nope. Me neither. </div>
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Happy Monday! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-57310278926492323252013-01-03T06:58:00.000-08:002013-01-03T06:58:07.650-08:00Happy 2013! <div align="center">
Happy New Year! </div>
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I love the New Year deal. Who doesn't love feeling like you have a new beginning? Throw away last year's calendar marked with events and appointments and rip open a new one fresh with possibilities. Now, if you read my post from last year you will see that there were pretty much no changes. What can I say... I inherited my mother's tendency to proclaim each new year the best one yet. Even if it doesn't turn out to be. </div>
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But this year.... This year it will be. </div>
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Why? Well, because we started out the year on the beach. And NO new year started with sand between your toes can possibly be a bad one.</div>
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So, to kick off this wonderful new year full of possibilities, I give you my.....</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> List O' Goals (The 2013 Edition)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. Take more trips to the beach. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Considering the way we started off our new year, this one seemed fitting.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYR4ffANwMEpOyT31zsH8SNGSCDMcYy-G0R00B0aoDO8tvHSX83jmHnBWYKnS_fZXz-uHKpTLvAHt558t_hH7ZXb5H2xfZRkuq8mitAR-STeLVhQ11cdltedvKVLboL94A2H1SC-BqGd1/s1600/315.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYR4ffANwMEpOyT31zsH8SNGSCDMcYy-G0R00B0aoDO8tvHSX83jmHnBWYKnS_fZXz-uHKpTLvAHt558t_hH7ZXb5H2xfZRkuq8mitAR-STeLVhQ11cdltedvKVLboL94A2H1SC-BqGd1/s640/315.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. Drink more wine.</span></div>
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Why not! Heart health is a very important thing. This should basically say, "Make your heart healthier." And who doesn't want that? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrS1FZN2XnkZxoVggmWV4HSFVWCJaVlV49jkz1dewE27B89Cu02KeYiaAoQw5jlzRmPhUrFngG2HyMK7xkTIw7R7wcOS7sPMEMl_OkPr-bvINfwlv8EWLv1kEqWTZV7Dat3OS8v_tuUk2E/s1600/314.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrS1FZN2XnkZxoVggmWV4HSFVWCJaVlV49jkz1dewE27B89Cu02KeYiaAoQw5jlzRmPhUrFngG2HyMK7xkTIw7R7wcOS7sPMEMl_OkPr-bvINfwlv8EWLv1kEqWTZV7Dat3OS8v_tuUk2E/s640/314.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">3.</span> <span style="font-size: large;">Get Healthy!</span></div>
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This one goes hand in hand with number 2. Except this one is more geared towards the rest of my body. Especially if I am going to keep resolution number one. I mean, who gives a list of goals for a new year without this one? It's pretty standard. To attempt to stick with this resolution, I have (sadly) decided to trade in my morning Target adventure (the daily one I take for that free hour I have after dropping the last child off and before I have to be at work) for an hour of jogging at the park in between my office and Mason's school. Not only will this one act assist with getting healthy, but it will also help with goal number 4. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_4Ayf5Z01OyY0xzFnR-e15DpkxkM2EVXn115L1hRRNHQ1osHNuzMwYJ0WRgK3C7R1kylnpHWqhvmyarrlamZWLz6YpJpj7l1sCF7pUZfL21EmJSk_3ybsYKgWYmLiREJkC1pHZbTupuN/s1600/308.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_4Ayf5Z01OyY0xzFnR-e15DpkxkM2EVXn115L1hRRNHQ1osHNuzMwYJ0WRgK3C7R1kylnpHWqhvmyarrlamZWLz6YpJpj7l1sCF7pUZfL21EmJSk_3ybsYKgWYmLiREJkC1pHZbTupuN/s640/308.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. Save Money.</span></div>
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By not going to Target just about every morning of the week I will not only save my $5 worth of Starbucks, but also the random crap I always end up with while I am there. I make no promises that I will not raid the dollar section randomly. That is no where in the fine print of these goals, but being in there almost daily definitely doesn't help the wallet. If you've been to Target, you know what I mean. They've got such good stuff! It's hard! </div>
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(Sorry for the quality, this was a phone picture, obviously, since Mason was busy being the photographer)</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. Photography</span></div>
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Simply photography, because there are so many things associated with this word that are on my list for the year. I want to grow my photography business. I want to encourage Mason's love of photography. The kid has an eye for it and LOVES to get behind the camera. Future photographer, I think so. I also want to learn more about my camera and better my photography in general. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5yEc8em2NZBFEmFhcR46bNT05GD-22ROu_IrfnyX27EQu_-ZtMn8vJnKUJVDM7cIw-5KDL_j31xPWcnbKElGvYeieIflFi7wNPX1fyrmhXgnhy8Xf0xkVCivteYsUEYXeG5uX4XCtOc-/s1600/125.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5yEc8em2NZBFEmFhcR46bNT05GD-22ROu_IrfnyX27EQu_-ZtMn8vJnKUJVDM7cIw-5KDL_j31xPWcnbKElGvYeieIflFi7wNPX1fyrmhXgnhy8Xf0xkVCivteYsUEYXeG5uX4XCtOc-/s640/125.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6. RELAX</span></div>
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I am a worrier, so this one will be tough for me. I want to relax and enjoy life more. Stop over analyzing everything and go with the flow! Life is too short to spend it worried about things beyond your control. Time to kick that idea into high gear and enjoy it! My babies will only be this age once, and time spent worrying is time not spent soaking in the time I have. </div>
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So there you have it. My goals for the year as of now. I am sure I will think of/come up with more, but for now this is it. I may even be extra dedicated and drink wine on the beach some this year. How's that for resolution follow through! </div>
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Happy New Year, All! I hope it is the best one yet! </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-80173432095063478332013-01-03T06:24:00.002-08:002013-01-03T06:24:54.903-08:00And I Shall Social Media Every Pretty Little Thing I see! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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From Pinterest...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1loNKuDJ9Mti5hHZpkXsNlNkiX-VYEqMEGpfaFc5OBtLMpgK7USSJFohpcclQ4qh9GtNfpZhdI8QAq8bK_juVvII3EwYucNKxWoXYlGTZQ4ORmraxF0bzaHztEDAbNX1wgKYjkE6OQ5qd/s1600/310.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1loNKuDJ9Mti5hHZpkXsNlNkiX-VYEqMEGpfaFc5OBtLMpgK7USSJFohpcclQ4qh9GtNfpZhdI8QAq8bK_juVvII3EwYucNKxWoXYlGTZQ4ORmraxF0bzaHztEDAbNX1wgKYjkE6OQ5qd/s400/310.png" width="225" /></a></div>
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(You can follow my Pinterest Boards at <a href="http://pinterest.com/smvickers1/">http://pinterest.com/smvickers1/</a>)</div>
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To Instagram....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXUMQ3ov1yMFGaILplW_wgzAYHdjnIFEIymFAkxazlOKkKRfF8YPx41OyPUzU0djkwDCvDeEUrhzovXifZaCq1BabewnD0YTwwGKSq1KEp_DaZWXmAZd_EH1sbieRCMJAqSdUfe6C4C0Y/s1600/311.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXUMQ3ov1yMFGaILplW_wgzAYHdjnIFEIymFAkxazlOKkKRfF8YPx41OyPUzU0djkwDCvDeEUrhzovXifZaCq1BabewnD0YTwwGKSq1KEp_DaZWXmAZd_EH1sbieRCMJAqSdUfe6C4C0Y/s400/311.png" width="225" /></a></div>
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(You can follow my Instagram at Samantha_Vickers)</div>
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To Facebook post...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-RN4ztTR-S40fhsevICCzEwTqrMlfIHvA-mtMpoxigWEqSJ1T5QXMslnKJoB2dsOSKuZDlItTM8guekrUujLtPVSMLWYk61VQbeil2PPV2yi2_M3pAJoYmozpCQE_0pBhqD64jBaa0F9/s1600/312.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-RN4ztTR-S40fhsevICCzEwTqrMlfIHvA-mtMpoxigWEqSJ1T5QXMslnKJoB2dsOSKuZDlItTM8guekrUujLtPVSMLWYk61VQbeil2PPV2yi2_M3pAJoYmozpCQE_0pBhqD64jBaa0F9/s400/312.png" width="225" /></a></div>
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Equals one KICK ASS birthday gift! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJoOaALT0XbDJb5n6QrzmXEVk03deZIQAD8ZakhyqW3fVgrz2U5dv1mfa4Ak8sveSMJSAZUJD5zGm39UyraoC-A75kXHYBM1MoxGqS5NE8tTmtVHa6-Y_0j9x5y-VIHTk1s846mUI2FLm/s1600/309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJoOaALT0XbDJb5n6QrzmXEVk03deZIQAD8ZakhyqW3fVgrz2U5dv1mfa4Ak8sveSMJSAZUJD5zGm39UyraoC-A75kXHYBM1MoxGqS5NE8tTmtVHa6-Y_0j9x5y-VIHTk1s846mUI2FLm/s400/309.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I celebrated my 26th birthday Sunday. Having a birthday right after Christmas is usually not the best thing in the world. Folks are drained (emotionally and financially) from Christmas and the "Christmas is Over" blues are setting in as folks take down their decorations. I usually feel glum on my birthday for these reasons on top of that feeling of another year being over and being one year older. My husband surprised me with a trip to the Micheal Kors outlet to pick out my new watch! What a way to brighten a day! Same one on my accounts (all three of them) and cheaper than the one online! Not to mention the one online says that it won't ship until Feb 8th. FEBRUARY 8TH! Who do these people think we are! We can't wait an entire MONTH! </div>
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Take that website! This lady has it NOW! </div>
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Happy Birthday to me! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-3152689462692481232013-01-02T09:44:00.001-08:002013-01-02T09:44:29.151-08:00Holiday Reflections<div align="center">
Well hello there, strangers! </div>
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Since I have neglected this little space of mine during our celebrating the Christmas season, I suppose my first post of the new year will reflect on the holidays. </div>
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Other than a few tornadoes and a stab wound Christmas day, our holiday activities went along without issue. Yes there were a few tornadoes in our area Christmas day, no they did not affect us (thank God), and yes my husband stabbed himself with a pocket knife Christmas day while trying to open toys. We're talking knife to the bone stab wound. Did he go to the hospital? No. Apparently a knife touching your bone and blood gushing out of your hand isn't an emergency. Who knew? </div>
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Now, instead of overwhelming you with a million holiday photos, I will only subject you to a few.</div>
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1st. My little family at our annual Christmas Eve Brunch.</div>
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2nd. Probably the most accurate portrayal of what Christmas does to our souls.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3p8ex85PTCXkSIEJY7_VvCd-q9pMHY5ZApFojAOldHIOW3KyrTo6LOloRXBLi9W2kMr3J84Bl7Pa7ysaTGQm4UYqulcw18Arpey4ZfZPlVJ_XgaEzNFAqz8cRerO0vMaBcXOtU9IWNl9o/s1600/321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3p8ex85PTCXkSIEJY7_VvCd-q9pMHY5ZApFojAOldHIOW3KyrTo6LOloRXBLi9W2kMr3J84Bl7Pa7ysaTGQm4UYqulcw18Arpey4ZfZPlVJ_XgaEzNFAqz8cRerO0vMaBcXOtU9IWNl9o/s640/321.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The picture speaks for itself. My kids are becoming just as obsessed with Christmas as I am and the fact that they do not hide the flying of their Holiday Freak Flag made it that much sweeter. (You may not be able to see it, but he is wearing reindeer antlers and has a painted red nose in this picture... That flag is flying high, friends. HIGH)</div>
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And now, a condensed look into our Christmas! I do hope that everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a safe and happy New Years Eve!</div>
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Be on the lookout here in the next few days for more posts! This gal is kicking it into high gear!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-37735335200923337962012-12-17T09:01:00.001-08:002012-12-17T10:05:43.284-08:00Lessons Learned (the house full of fellas edition)<div align="center">
Well Happy Monday to you! Rainy days and Mondays don't always get me down, but when they both come together and bring one kick ass cold with them.... Well, things tend to go downhill quickly.</div>
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Who looks like a hot mess today???? Yes I do. But to be fair, it is rainy and gross and I have a cold. So I have a free pass to look like crap. </div>
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Who accidentally added crab boil instead of vinegar to their BBQ sauce mixture for their easy crock pot bbq chicken??? DEFINITELY not me. Who does that! (in my defense, my sense of smell is completely blocked currently, so it was an honest mistake. Plus, the crab boil bottle and apple cider vinegar bottle look similar! Or I wasn't paying attention AT ALL.)</div>
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For the win! Who managed to fold AND put away every load of laundry they did this weekend without any of them taking multiple trips in the dryer to get the "we've been sitting in the basket for days" wrinkles out?????? </div>
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THIS LADY! </div>
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Cookie and a pat on the back please. Thanks.</div>
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Now, onto today's post shall we! </div>
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Last night after a trip to the restroom during which I experienced this first point, I got to thinking. There is a whole list of things I have learned from living in this house full of guys. There is an art form to being the only one with lady parts in a full house. So here it is.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">5 Lessons Learned from Living in a House Full of Boys</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">1.</span> Always, always, ALWAYS look before you sit! On the toilet that is.... If you don't look? Well, expect some toilet bowl water to booty contact because it will be happening. Oh, and don't think your butt is too big for it to happen and that you would just have an unpleasant experience of sitting on that tiny rim. No matter how much junk your packing in that trunk it will Cirque de Soleil it's way through that hole and you will hit water. I don't know the physics of it, but it will happen. And it is not pleasant. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">2.</span> (and also toilet related, who are we kidding.... This list could be nothing but bathroom lessons) No matter how many times you tell them to pay attention to what they are doing, they will STILL make a mess. I am thinking we need to invest in one of those toilet targets at this point. Maybe that will encourage them to make a game out of it and actually TRY instead of nonchalantly dictating the notes from the most recent Oval Office meeting all over my bathroom. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">3.</span> Hot wheels, as innocent as they may seem, WILL pierce the bottom of your foot when stepped on in the middle of the night while attempting to beat the mess out of your child's crappo alarm clock to get it to shut up when it won't stop going off at midnight. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">4.</span> A boy's penis will jump off of their body and run away if they don't grab it. Are my boys the only ones who do this???? Leave it alone! Geez! It isn't going anywhere. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">5.</span> </span>Everything you do can be a competition. EVERYTHING. I can run faster than you! I can brush my teeth faster than you! "Daddy, my tee tee is bigger than yours." And that one is in quotes, because it was actually said by my middle child who is 3. Yeah.... Who's excited for teenage years?!?! This gal is FOR SURE. </div>
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There are a MILLION more things to add. A million and one. This is not done by a long shot!<br />
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Today I have linked up my <a href="http://houseofvickers.blogspot.com/2012/12/ocd-elf-posing-continued.html" target="_blank">Elf Posing OCD Continued</a> post over at <a href="http://www.craft-o-maniac.com/2012/12/link-party-craft-o-maniac-monday.html" target="_blank">Craft-O-Maniac Monday Link Party! </a>Head over there and check out some of the most recent happenings from some very talented folks! <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-63596883448038002302012-12-06T20:23:00.000-08:002012-12-06T20:23:02.930-08:00OCD Elf Posing Continued....<div style="text-align: center;">
Charley, Charley, Charley....</div>
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You are a pain. And I am starting to realize the severity of my Elf Posing OCD. </div>
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I'm talking sketch, cut out, and paint tiny goggles severe. Who does this?!? Am I missing some chromosomes???? Are my neurons firing correctly???? Who am I kidding, I don't even know what a neuron is! (So I could quite possibly have that problem, if that is in fact an actual thing...)</div>
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Last night's Charley</div>
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So, as you can see, I definitely wasn't exaggerating the whole tiny goggles thing. Sadly. And yes, since I know you are thinking it. Yes I hand painted that mailing tube! There, I said it! Are you happy now! </div>
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Geez. Get off of my back, will ya! He also has a cape on with a big fat C in the middle! You just can't see it in the picture! So how about those big, fat, Red Delicious apples?!?</div>
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And tonight's Charley</div>
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Don't worry, no hand painted goggles tonight. Although, I did fashion a small pair of jean shorts..... Is that better or worse than the goggles? I didn't sew them if that makes you feel better. They are held on there in two separate pieces by foam tape. </div>
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Oh, and he is the Hulk in case you didn't get it. The boys love The Avengers, especially The Hulk, so it made it in there. </div>
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Do they make groups for this? Maybe an EPOSG (Elf Posing Obsession Support Group)?</div>
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We can meet in secret and have snacks. I will bring cupcakes. </div>
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I'm Samantha and I have a problem.</div>
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This is the part where you say "Hi Samantha" in that odd monotone voice...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-51458961382331449482012-12-06T14:34:00.000-08:002012-12-06T14:34:47.089-08:00Car Line Entertainment<div align="center">
On Thursdays Brady, my 3 year old and possibly most animated child, goes to work with me. This also means that he must go with me to pick up his older brother from school.</div>
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A few weeks ago Brady made his presence known in the carpool lane when he leaned out of the open car window and screamed...</div>
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"That idiot won't go!"</div>
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Yeah, fellow car line attendees... That was MY kid who screamed that while you all sat with your windows down reading your books or playing Angry Birds. </div>
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You are welcome.</div>
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Today, well today he made his presence known again. A lady sat on the back of her open SUV playing with her small baby girl. These people were clearly of some Hispanic descent, but definitely spoke English. After about ten minutes of yelling out the window to the small baby girl, "Hey! Stop looking at me you maniac!" (yes... that is word for word) He then turns to me and very LOUDLY proclaims, "That lady is speaking Spanish!"</div>
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First off, no she was not speaking Spanish. </div>
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Secondly, inside voice, kid! </div>
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Third, why do my kids have an obsession with the Spanish language? Last week Brady asked me out of no where how to speak Spanish! Last year Mason came home with a bunch of scribble in his spot where his name was supposed to be and when I asked him what it was he informed me that is was his name in Spanish.</div>
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Do all kids have a fascination with foreign language???? Is this something I should know????</div>
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Perhaps I should have paid a little more attention in my 5 years of Spanish class.</div>
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On another note! I am linking up my Charley and Me post over at <a href="http://www.youknowithappensatyourhousetoo.com/2012/12/tgif-blog-hop-127.html" target="_blank">You Know It Happens At Your House Too</a>! Head over there and give this awesome Blog Hop a Peek!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-61969635237821559722012-12-06T08:17:00.001-08:002012-12-06T08:17:44.861-08:00"That" Christmas<div align="center">
I have been dreading this moment for 6 Christmases now. And yes I am about to get sappy on you. </div>
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That Christmas that would be Mason's very last as a believer. I think we may be at "That" Christmas and it breaks my heart.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZFqrxNxRdED9Ye3e0ooWeJ8M3LjKG0lu5Qe0Znn-mLMZMTEFCFbhQlyh6ee9R3qDUdqzqQ3nFp5Ug-LF-__GiPT1D4YxFNd4QQK6v4rFaZ7qWYm43OYkLd56Mt4SG99FCTTtQDSlktyl/s1600/288.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" nea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZFqrxNxRdED9Ye3e0ooWeJ8M3LjKG0lu5Qe0Znn-mLMZMTEFCFbhQlyh6ee9R3qDUdqzqQ3nFp5Ug-LF-__GiPT1D4YxFNd4QQK6v4rFaZ7qWYm43OYkLd56Mt4SG99FCTTtQDSlktyl/s640/288.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Mason has always just went with Christmas. You know, how kids do. Santa is real, the elf really does all of these amazing things, Santa brings the presents and eats the cookies and watches to make sure that you are good throughout the year.</div>
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They accept it, because that is the way it is.</div>
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This year he is asking a lot of questions. It all started with our trip to the Christmas train after which Mason quietly informed me that he didn't think that the Santa there was the real Santa. He couldn't give me a reason why he thought this, or wouldn't rather, he just didn't think that was him. </div>
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Then there were more questions. </div>
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How does he see everything everyone is doing? </div>
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How does he go to everyone's house?</div>
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How is he magical?</div>
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Good solid questions. Nothing that any kid wouldn't wonder, but his aren't asked in a "how" way. They are asked in a "I don't know if I believe what you are saying or not" kind of way. </div>
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Then the questions of Charley came into play. This morning he told me that he didn't think Charley left every night. That he doesn't report to Santa, he just hangs around our house. </div>
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I am at a loss. I feel him slipping away by the day. He's losing his belief and it breaks my heart. I try to remember how old I was when I realized that Christmas worked a tad bit differently than I had thought, but I cannot for the life of me remember. He will be 7 in a few days and I cannot help to think that that is too young. Or maybe I just feel like by him no longer believing, he is no longer a little boy. </div>
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I'm prepping for the talk.</div>
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What will be the 1st of 3 talks. </div>
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Damn you time and your insistence on speeding by! </div>
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But if it isn't time and instead some snot nosed little turd at his school who is attempting to squash his innocent Christmas spirit.... Well, this momma is going to have to put a Santa sized whoppin' one some kid!</div>
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And yes, my Alabama just came out and I said whoopin'. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-39162993878990681702012-12-05T06:54:00.000-08:002012-12-05T07:14:16.433-08:00What the Elf!?!<div align="center">
News from my general area this morning, and I am SO not making this up... </div>
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Working Meth Lab Found in Post Office</div>
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How's THAT for front page news! </div>
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Alabama.... We keep it classy. </div>
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On to what I came here for, shall we?</div>
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Two more nights of Charley fun have passed. I'm still nuts and still way to into posing this thing. </div>
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Eh, you win some you lose some. The loss being my sanity and the win being my pride in knowing that my elf kicks some serious ass. Which considering the circumstances, is not really a win at all. I take what I can get.</div>
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So yesterday we got this...</div>
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Pot lid turned spaceship, monster Christmas ornament turned space explorer side kick, tin foil turned helmet... And yes, I did cut out the stars and glitter them for a spacey feel. There's you crazy, folks. Right there. </div>
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The boys got a kick out of it and it was cute. Not my favorite, but cute.</div>
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Now today's Charley.... This one I dig.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaRuZIxPBrSPr_7rI28iw4uJvlgw7FT-N3NEuELMoB6K5eSwdGvWHETFAE-xwrRMKZ1rVUcXnMNekLA0is-hvblyJEjXDZvpT6kI-4yAmBP-fIcmww-urCpuhOD6FcB5d7irICmwk_83Y/s1600/00001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" nea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaRuZIxPBrSPr_7rI28iw4uJvlgw7FT-N3NEuELMoB6K5eSwdGvWHETFAE-xwrRMKZ1rVUcXnMNekLA0is-hvblyJEjXDZvpT6kI-4yAmBP-fIcmww-urCpuhOD6FcB5d7irICmwk_83Y/s640/00001.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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Wuppa Charley Style!</div>
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Heeeeeeeeeeeey Sexy Lady</div>
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Wup, wup, wup, wup, wup</div>
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Wuppa Charley Style</div>
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A little sign of the times Charley for you. The boys LOVE this video and sing the song/do the dance about once every 10 minutes throughout the day so I figured why not. I worried that they wouldn't know what the heck he was doing, but being that they share my DNA along with my strong sense of odd human being, they got it. Immediately got it. Scarily quick. </div>
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Now, to plan what to do tonight. I was thinking maybe a ninja Charley in the throws of a mid air beat down, but that is still up in the air.</div>
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Apology to my neighbors who endured Gangnam Style on repeat this morning and are continuing to endure it throughout the day since the boys wouldn't let me turn it off before we left.</div>
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"But Charley NEEDS it on! He can't dance if we turn it off!" </div>
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Like I said, sorry guys! </div>
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Now head over to <a href="http://www.dianarambles.com/" target="_blank">Diana Rambles</a> and check out the Ultimate Elf on the Shelf Linky Party! Lots of good ideas for anyone needing some Elfspiration!</div>
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<a href="http://www.dianarambles.com/2012/12/ultimate-elf-on-shelf-link-party.html" target="_blank">Ultimate Elf on the Shelf Linky Party!</a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-34990712504796334402012-12-03T09:16:00.001-08:002012-12-03T09:16:55.487-08:00Our Elf on the Shelf (Charley) and Me<div align="center">
If you were around last year about this lovely time, you may have read about <a href="http://houseofvickers.blogspot.com/search/label/Charley%20the%20Elf" target="_blank">Charley.</a> Last year when we started the Elf on the Shelf deal, my kids were obsessed with the Charley Bit Me video on Youtube. What did this mean... This meant our elf was doomed to end up with the name Charley.</div>
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And Charley it was. </div>
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Charley had plenty of exciting adventures during his time with us. A few I got from other blogs, but for the most part, my imagination started to run a little ramped. </div>
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This was made painfully obvious when we got this...</div>
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Yeah. Charley breakdances for change.... Jealous?!?</div>
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Yes, that is change in his hat on the ground beside him... I told you. My mind. It just goes haywire. Do my kids even get this kind of stuff???? Heck no! I do this for my own selfish enjoyment! And they think it's funny and cool and all that jazz. Blah Blah Blah. </div>
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I like seeing what I can come up with. The elf is a challenge wrapped up in a creepy little elf package. It taunts me. Come up with something better it calls from it's little hiding spot every night. This happens to everyone with an elf right? No? Just me? Well, I never said I was normal.</div>
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A few days later we got this...</div>
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Lion Tamer Charley. Not my proudest Charley set-up, but mine none the less. I believe the proudest will be reserved for Breakdancing Charley. Will I top him eventually? I hope so. The idea is still simmering somewhere in my overworked, insane mind. </div>
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So far this year we have had our special Wecome Back Breakfast. Charley brought Christmas pjs, an advent calendar, and a new ornament for each of the boys along with a new plate and mug for Santa's milk and cookies, and yummy sweets for breakfast.</div>
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He sat atop our garland in the dining room with his "I'm Back You Better Be Good For Santa" poem in hand...</div>
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The poem, for anyone interested, reads...</div>
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Mason, Brady, and Ethan,</div>
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It's time! I'm back! I'm here to stay!</div>
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Until we reach Christmas Day</div>
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Now here are calendars to count the days</div>
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and bright new festive pjs</div>
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and yummy snacks to fill your tummies</div>
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Yummy things that are oh so yummy</div>
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A plate and cup for Santa's treats</div>
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You know he loves things that are sweet</div>
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Now let's get started we must be quick</div>
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Be sweet and kind for old St. Nick</div>
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I'll keep an eye and write it down</div>
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That you three are the sweetest boys in town.</div>
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That is what you get at 11 pm when you are trying to finish up so you can go your tired, mom butt to bed. If I had more time I would have used pretty paper, but an almost empty roll of toilet paper from the bathroom is Charley's preference, thank you very much.</div>
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Now, so far we have had the breakfast (as seen above)...</div>
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Charley's Game Night (All bendable figures welcome) complete with homemade tiny Twister mat and board. (Yes I made it... I never claimed to be sane.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXt_w5RNOgaMY669RFM-b1JniuK8QSS-XYHPH8W8OFo_j3rbifz6sWfHBVLfQqErxe1x7ZZearU2Fz-VPIL-lf9R_3Ye1GakfIGb5VcpvLUX30XTYIOleBm8eFjbyKzdLxmOEoODB31cV/s1600/280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXt_w5RNOgaMY669RFM-b1JniuK8QSS-XYHPH8W8OFo_j3rbifz6sWfHBVLfQqErxe1x7ZZearU2Fz-VPIL-lf9R_3Ye1GakfIGb5VcpvLUX30XTYIOleBm8eFjbyKzdLxmOEoODB31cV/s640/280.jpg" tea="true" width="640" /></a></div>
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And Snow Bunny Charley, Sledding down his powdered sugar slopes like a bolt of red, creepy smiling lightning.</div>
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Charley was SUPPOSED to be skiing down this slope, but seeing as he is a difficult little turd and the lovely folks over at the elf making factory didn't take into consideration crazy moms such as myself who would want to get all into this elf posing like some insane person with doll posing OCD. A little note to the folks over at Elf on the Shelf... Line these little things with wire! This thing would be so much easier to deal with if it had wire inside. </div>
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Lessons I have learned...</div>
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1. This little fellow is WORK. I am not big on copying other folks. I did it a little bit last year and this year I am trying to stay clear of it. Coming up with ideas and setting all this mess up takes some serious time and effort. </div>
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2. Double sided foam tape. LOTS. I went through a whole roll last year and I am well on my way to going through an entire roll this year. </div>
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3. Don't trust your kids not to touch him. Set the stage for trust issues early (Totally kidding.... Somewhat). I set him up out of reach every time. They can see what he is doing, but unless they stack stuff and Cat in the Hat their way up there, they can't get him.</div>
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4. Plan ahead. I made a list weeks ago of what I was going to do with him. Even included the toys I would need from the boys room and other props to make sure that I had them on hand for the night of. </div>
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5. Lose your mind. Only a crazy person would take this on and put the work into it that I do.</div>
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6. Think to yourself, "One day the boys will look back and tell their kids of their elf when they were younger and then I will continue to set him up for my grand kids for when they come to my house." This will all help you justify the crazy amount of time and effort you are putting into it. Then immediately regret thinking that because now you are sad that one day your hellions are going to grow up and leave. (Is it too late to lock them away? Is that weird?). Then immediately realize all the fun stuff you will get to do when they are gone. Peeing without interruption? Yes please. Grocery shopping without a kid biting broccoli while it is on the shelf in the veggie section? I'll take it. </div>
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7. Don't sleep. Who needs it. Staying up late to set up this guy is almost a full time job. Add this full time job to my regular full time job, my photography on the weekends, and my online boutique.... And well, wonder "why am I not making more money than I am???"</div>
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8. Shun the ridicule from your spouse as they tell you that you are insane/ use some of the ideas from last year/you're going to run out of ideas/the kids are not going to know the difference. The first step is admitting you have a problem. I just so happen to have one and not mind it. </div>
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9. Did I mention you need to be insane? </div>
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10. Enjoy it. I know I do. As crazy as putting all of this time and effort into this thing is... I enjoy this. I enjoy the boys looking in amazement and giggling at the scenes. So I am nuts? Who isn't. Mine just so happens to be centered around posing a small doll 25 days out of a year....</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-24953206405701888302012-11-26T12:33:00.001-08:002012-11-26T12:33:16.238-08:00Happy Hobodays! <div align="center">
As a budding photographer, here lately I have been knocking out some holiday photos for folks. Since we have a lovely "Square" downtown with a huge fountain turned Christmas tree, I assumed that would be a lovely place for a perfectly coiffed holiday photo op.... I assumed wrong. Very, very wrong.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bienville_Square" target="_blank">wikipedia</a></td></tr>
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Upon arriving at the lovely Bienville Square, we were greeted with not just a few surprises, but a LOT of surprises.</div>
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Flock of birds, herd of cattle, gaggle of geese.... What in God's green earth do you call an entire civilization of hobos??????</div>
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Not a few here and there. Oh no. An army of them. There we go. An ARMY! It was insane! You've got ten of them over here lying on the grass passing around a cigarette filled with God knows what, a few of them over here braiding each other's hair, and a few sitting randomly on benches rocking back and forth foaming from the mouth. </div>
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And don't even get me started on the squirrels! The overly brave, obese, high on bath salts squirrels ready and willing to take off a face in the name of a post Thanksgiving dinner! </div>
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Don't get me wrong. I am sure that not all of these individuals are bad people. Hell, most of them may not be. I am sure that some of these people may be good folks just down on their luck. I'm not completely heartless, but come on! Laying in the park vomiting over the side of a bench or lying in a multi-hobo smoke circle while having vulgar conversations and cussing up a storm is ridiculous. </div>
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Hey City of Mobile.... How about instead of spending tons of money on a over sized moon pie and a museum no one will visit, you invest that money in the spaces we have and make them more family friendly. You want to make downtown a destination.... Clean that crap up! </div>
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Rant over.</div>
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Now, I am off to photoshop an outrageously large number of homeless people out of the backdrop of some family photos. </div>
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And also, in case you were wondering, we were there for ten minutes tops. We quickly packed up and headed to a part of town with a little less "scenery."</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-7242292513323971222012-11-19T07:50:00.000-08:002012-11-19T07:50:03.567-08:00What Was I Thinking! <div align="center">
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Someone slap me, because I have lost it. </div>
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My husband is impossible to buy for. He is one of those, "If I want it, I'll go out and buy it" kinds of people. You know, the annoying ones. A few months back, while wracking my brain trying to decide what in the world I was going to get him, I thought it would be a good idea to do some "special" pictures for him. You know the kind I am talking about. The ones most ladies reserve for Valentine's Day. </div>
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Forget Valentine"s Day! Momma needs a gift NOW. </div>
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So here we go.</div>
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In just a few short hours I will be stripping down to.... well, not much, and standing in front of a woman I have never met before. </div>
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Nothing says holidays like getting naked for a stranger in 50 degree weather. Chill bumps are sexy right?</div>
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The crappy thing is I think he has figured it out, sorry devil. There have been comments. Small, hinting comments. I swear to all that is holy, if I am going through all of this mess and he has snooped and figured it out I am going to be PISSED. </div>
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Not too mention, next year his butt will be getting a Jersey Shore series box set and a fruit cake. </div>
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Merry Freaking Christmas you snooping turd. </div>
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Now... Where's the nearest liquor store, because I am going to need something hefty to get through this with my nerves in tact. </div>
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Oh, and how about a little sneak peak of our trip to the Audobon Zoo in New Orleans this spast weekend for Ethan's 2nd birthday? </div>
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Yep.... Can you see the love. At this point, I would have gladly sold them.</div>
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3 for 1! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-58483107617952855302012-11-12T08:36:00.001-08:002012-11-12T08:36:12.893-08:00Christmas Card Photos!<div align="center">
After last years 2-3 week sickness marathon right at Christmas time left me lacking in the holiday spirit department, I decided to hop to it and get things done early this year. </div>
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Starting with Christmas cards. I always mean to send them. Always. Who am I kidding, I always mean to actually MAKE them, but have yet to do so. My oldest is only 7 now... Better late than never, right? </div>
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So we ventured out this past Sunday on a mission to capture some holiday photos that were Christmas Card worthy. </div>
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Now, we did this with Ethan Cole battling not one, but 2 strains of the flu. Who comes down with 2 different strains of the flu anyway???? Geeze. Only one of mine. What can I say, it is a gift. And apparently one that keeps on giving since it is hanging around way longer than it needs to be.</div>
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So, needless to say, some folks weren't feeling it, but we got some cute ones anyway.</div>
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And I can say with a half full cup of confidence that we WILL send out Christmas cards this year. Half full. Anything can happen.</div>
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So far, I have only tackled two of the many. I'll post the rest when I get to them, which will hopefully be soon.</div>
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Now.... On another note. Mr. Brady Parker, my middle beam of sunshine, always has something interesting to say. As noted in the Little Monsters section, I firmly believe that he is a reincarnated world traveler. There is no way this is this kid's first time around. </div>
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As I got him dressed in his button up and sweater vest his little wheels started turning..... And then he spit out this little gem.....</div>
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"Are these my office clothes???? I'm wearing my office clothes. Where's my desk? I've got to work! I'm wearing my office clothes!"</div>
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Apparently, bare feet, jeans, a button up, and a sweater vest are office clothes. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-22631569530893972492012-10-17T07:17:00.000-07:002012-10-17T07:17:08.358-07:00MORE From The Weekend!<div align="center">
Just because I am horrible at NOT sharing things. (As I have recently learned from my inability to post the bridal portraits I captured of my dear friend until AFTER she walks down the aisle this weekend.... Only 3 more days!!!)</div>
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Another family shoot tomorrow evening and another possibility for absolutely adorable-ness. And yes... That is a word. Google it. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2526412912804798373.post-18136220513226848902012-10-16T07:35:00.002-07:002012-10-16T07:35:44.161-07:00Teeny Tiny Emma<div align="center">
Round 2 this past weekend was the OH so gorgeous newborn Emma.</div>
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Oh this made me want another little bundle. Especially if it is a little girlie bundle to help combat the overload of testosterone in our house with my husband and these three little munchkins we've got. </div>
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How absolutely precious is she! You always forget how little they are when yours grow up. Man I miss my sweet little babies. Not so much the not sleeping... Well, who am I kidding. Mine still don't sleep all night and my youngest is almost 2! </div>
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But I digress. I have a million and one more photos to go through from this session, but these were a few of my favorites. And how could I resist NOT posting a few of these! </div>
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Next up.... The Sutton's! (Who were a blast might I add!)</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0