<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 26 Dec 2009 09:59:05 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Do Butterflies Have Ears?</title><description>A Place Of Childlike Questioning</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-9016267383773103260</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Sep 2009 12:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-21T06:02:04.339-07:00</atom:updated><title>Simple Joy...Happy Boy</title><description>What is making this 3 month old so happy?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383903837608980802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Srd4A-GLsUI/AAAAAAAAAeI/f9u34czUpLM/s320/073.JPG" border="0" /&gt;What, oh what, could it be?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383903821577357698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Srd4ACX8iYI/AAAAAAAAAeA/dRsrm0rokCQ/s320/072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Why does he laugh and coo?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383904386377957042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Srd4g6a5vrI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/rqih5Q4g_jo/s320/074.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Here is a tiny clue...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383904398220352066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Srd4hmiWWkI/AAAAAAAAAeY/-iatjXPRlCQ/s320/075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;A new friend, created by Sissy at Pre-school, smiles the whole day through...&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383904411937732450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Srd4iZo092I/AAAAAAAAAeg/1zuyd-Tb68A/s320/076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And our Gabe can't resist her sweet, apple-y charms...can you?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-9016267383773103260?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/09/simple-joyhappy-boy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Srd4A-GLsUI/AAAAAAAAAeI/f9u34czUpLM/s72-c/073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-7952645787901219915</guid><pubDate>Sat, 19 Sep 2009 00:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-18T17:27:49.535-07:00</atom:updated><title>Because I Never Get Tired Of This...</title><description>&lt;object height="225" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5103297&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=5103297&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/5103297"&gt;Gonna Be Friends&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/user331623"&gt;Brad Ruggles&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because I will never get tired of this video.  Maddy was meeting Gabe for the first time, armed with a blue "snuggle b" she picked out just for him.  This is one of my favorite moments ever.  Enjoy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-7952645787901219915?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/09/because-i-never-get-tired-of-this.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-1957197497630067117</guid><pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2009 18:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-16T12:12:30.030-07:00</atom:updated><title>For Those Who Dropped Napping Like A Bad Habit</title><description>This is an idea for all you mothers of three year olds out there.  I've heard that some of your darling, wee-angels have begun to protest, and altogether quit, napping.  I can only imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth this has introduced to the 1:00-3:00 time span at your house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I say "I can only imagine", of course, because my three year old still walks herself into her room at promptly 1:00 PM, driven by some sort of internal clock of obedience, and snuggles herself into her bed for a deep two hour slumber each and every day.  There is no arguing, no bribing, and certainly no threatening that she will not play with friends later if she doesn't go to sleep rightthisinstant.  There's no need for all that, with the inner-obedience clock and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for those of you whose children might lean towards the more realistic side, I made a great discovery that has probably already been discovered a thousand times over and isn't all that creative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered it nonetheless.  At our local library there are literally hundreds of children's books on CD and cassette.  CD/ old-school cassette player on your child's dresser, pop one in, and quiet time in lieu of nap while said toddler is entertained with &lt;em&gt;Charlotte's Web &lt;/em&gt;or &lt;em&gt;Harry Potter*. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Audio Book + Child in Room = Guilt Free Parenting Solution To A Need For A Few Half-Hours Of Quiet Each Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're welcome.  Me, I'll just keep enjoying my toddler fit-denying, self-disciplining, pre-school behavior-abiding daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;em&gt;I don't actually recommend Harry Potter for the three year old set.  It was, however, available.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-1957197497630067117?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/09/for-those-who-dropped-napping-like-bad.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-5362364796686170931</guid><pubDate>Wed, 26 Aug 2009 18:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-26T12:10:07.406-07:00</atom:updated><title>Bee-Swatting Bonding</title><description>It is supremely easy for my three year old to make friends.  She simply goes up to every child at the park/pool/grocery store and asks: "Can I be your friend?"  She asks until someone says "Yes" and then they are friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been tempted to use the same strategy and approach other moms at the park with the same inquisition:  "Will you be my friend?"  That's what happens when you are stuck in the house all day with children under three for conversational partners.  And when you live far away from family and your actual, wonderful, beautiful, Michigan-dwelling friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are blessed enough to have Brad &amp;amp; Lisa right across the street (story to come of how that happened and our move to Indy).  But sometimes they have other commitments or (gasp) other friends and aren't here to converse with me all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shocking, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when Maddy and I went to the Splash Pad yesterday, I prayed before I left the car that I would meet a friend myself that day.  There were two women there, both with three year old girls, so it looked promising.  Since Madalyn is Miss Social Butterfly, she instantly  bonded with the girls, leaving me an "in" to talk to their moms.  We found out that we had all recently moved to the area, one from Cincinnati and the other from a close neighboring town, Fishers.  Come to find out, they both live in the same subdivision, and one invited the other, Katie, to a sub playgroup on Friday.  It made me a little sad since I wasn't included in the invitation, even if I don't live in the sub.  But, as it turned out, Inviting Mom left, and Katie and I talked quite a bit more and discovered we are both RNs.  Katie must have thought it wasn't kind for Inviting Mom to invite in front of me either ;), because she asked if I wanted to meet her at the park again tomorrow (today).  And of course I played it cool and was like "Hmmm...let me checkmyscheduleYES!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived at the Splash Pad today, Maddy and Katie's daughter bonded by running around with orange buckets on their heads pretending to be lions.  Katie and I bonded by discussing how we both grew up taking ballet and where to enroll our daughters.  And, I'll be honest, Gabe and Katie's son didn't bond.  Because Gabe is only two and a half months old, see, and only bonds with those who are giving him milk or telling him "you're a handsome, handsome boy, oh yes you are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we left, Katie asked if we could exchange phone numbers and do a play date next week, bringing our friendship to new soaring levels.  She even swatted a pesky bee away for me while I was entering her number into my phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because friends don't let bees sting friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-5362364796686170931?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/08/bee-swatting-bonding.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-4957541206046450892</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2009 13:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-19T07:36:25.672-07:00</atom:updated><title>Penchee</title><description>Last night Dan and I decided to take the kids on a walk after dinner.  We really enjoy these family walks; Gabe rides in the Baby Bjorn and promptly falls asleep, Maddy chills in the jogging stroller, and Dan and I get a shot at adult conversation.  We had conspired to take Maddy to a local playground to wear her out..."Let's stop by the P-A-R-K because someone took a long nap today.  It's our only chance of a normal bedtime" I had said.  "Yea!  The P-R-K!  I want to go to the P-R-K!  Can we Mommy?" came the immediate response from the little girl listening underfoot. I guess we need a new system of secret communication...the three year-old is on to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we enjoyed a nice long walk and some good conversation on a muggy evening before heading to the subdivision park.  I was wondering if there would be any other children there since it was approaching eight o'clock as we arrived.  But, sure enough, there was a little boy, maybe six or seven, and a girl Maddy's age, playing together.  The little boy called to his sister "Hey, Kenzie!  Look at me!"  as we approached, and, Madalyn, overcome with joy to see a like-aged child, began yelling from the stroller before we even stopped, "Hey, Penchee! Penchee!  I'm here to play with you!  HI PENCHEE!"  Dan and I were stifling back laughter as the little girl's dad approached and asked, "Um, do they know each other?"  We let Maddy out of the stroller and she took off like a bullet towards the little girl.  "Nope, she's just extremely social" said I.  By this point the little girl has agreed to be Maddy's friend with only this disclaimer: "My name is KENZIE."  Madalyn brushes of the comment and continues to interpret her name as Penchee as the two zip up and down the slide.  They later discover the speakers--two tubes located at different ends of the play facility designed for talking into.  I hold Maddy up and Kenzie's dad holds her up so the girls can talk; Madalyn goes first, "Hey, Penchee!  Can you hear me? I LOVE YOU, Penchee!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenzie's dad comes over to Dan and I and strikes up a conversation after that:  "So, how do they know each other?"  The man is clearly still confused.  "Oh, they don't.  Maddy heard Kenzie's brother say her name as we pulled up.  She just loves to make friends."  I explain.  Through the course of our conversation, we discover that Kenzie and Maddy are actually going to be in the same pre-school class this fall!  Her dad is very friendly, and we talk for several more minutes before heading home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I see the beginning of a beautiful friendship:  Maddy and Penchee...BFFs for life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-4957541206046450892?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/08/penchee.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-5529421279868753055</guid><pubDate>Wed, 15 Jul 2009 03:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-14T20:39:51.340-07:00</atom:updated><title>I'm Back...</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sl1OyfV4mWI/AAAAAAAAAdg/CMGj2WzQ6bI/s1600-h/100_0099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358525760954472802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sl1OyfV4mWI/AAAAAAAAAdg/CMGj2WzQ6bI/s320/100_0099.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is the post in which I announce that I will be posting again...I've decided to give the people what they want (or something like that)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...but I won't begin tonight. It is 11:34, and I could have already been sleeping for approximately 34 minutes. I refuse to let any more slip by. But I promise, more is to come...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358526000508658482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sl1PAbwDYzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/ugL2x6gb6Zk/s320/102_0448.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;These kids are cute, but they get up darn early. Yikes, now it is 11:37...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;L.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-5529421279868753055?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-back.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sl1OyfV4mWI/AAAAAAAAAdg/CMGj2WzQ6bI/s72-c/100_0099.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-7477560887513054809</guid><pubDate>Thu, 26 Feb 2009 20:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-02-26T21:32:14.442-08:00</atom:updated><title>How To Enjoy A Trip To Florida When You Are 2 1/2...</title><description>1) Fly out of an extremely peaceful, uncrowded airport, such as Bishop in Flint. You'll breeze through parking, security, and finding your gate without so much as a sip of juice.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307205712017423762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab7ee64_ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/uJDT6gtkgBA/s320/DSC05561.JPG" border="0" /&gt;2) Be excited to earn your wings...&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307206286150518354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab7_5u4xlI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/JL4uYG4OjSI/s320/DSC05565.JPG" border="0" /&gt;3) Be an angel on the plane. Well, an angel who "had a few moments." Once getting ready to de-plane in Atlanta for a short layover, tell the people sitting behind you, when they compliment you on how good you were, "I had a few moments." This will cause everyone on the plane within the sound of your voice to break out into peals of laughter&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307207113984272210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab8wFp1Z1I/AAAAAAAAAaA/jBURrFQBnzU/s320/DSC05570.JPG" border="0" /&gt;4) Rent a house with it's own pool in a beautiful subdivision only 15 minutes from Disney. Mom and Dad will be glad to have their own master bed and bath, washer and dryer, and full kitchen, and you can enjoy the club house park as well as your own personal pool. Everyone will save money, be comfortable, and have their own space. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307207807494138962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab9YdLeLFI/AAAAAAAAAaI/yabsPkiHfWQ/s320/DSC05575.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307208492364380242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab-AUhQuFI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/aXtIWVzwJIQ/s320/DSC05582.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307209012614628754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab-emmlhZI/AAAAAAAAAaY/xz1XUR9JVOk/s320/DSC05578.JPG" border="0" /&gt;5) Spend the day at the zoo (where Mom and Dad get 1/2 off since they belong to a reciprocal zoo) and monkey and, er, &lt;em&gt;elephant&lt;/em&gt; around.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307210018602709874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab_ZKM1c3I/AAAAAAAAAao/yQ3yKZf7Ec8/s320/DSC05591.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307210015265475362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab_Y9xLSyI/AAAAAAAAAag/vTKoAEA7aDQ/s320/DSC05584.JPG" border="0" /&gt;6) Go to beautiful Cocoa Beach and run in the sand and the waves. Take deep breaths of the ocean air. Scoot around a lot on your bottom making sand castles and end up with sand in undisclosed locations...it's all part of the experience!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307210619267541106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab_8H2faHI/AAAAAAAAAaw/ImO9AHK271g/s320/DSC05595.JPG" border="0" /&gt;7) Even though Mom and Dad weren't &lt;em&gt;planning &lt;/em&gt;on taking you to Disney World since you are &lt;em&gt;small &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;won'tevenremember &lt;/em&gt;the experience, if they come to realize that Sea World is only ten dollars cheaper, and the entire trip has been a gift, and you ARE right there in Orlando after all, you can probably talk them into one day at the Magic Kingdom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307211300047055442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacAjv8-alI/AAAAAAAAAa4/aeZoyw1CNIU/s320/DSC05600.JPG" border="0" /&gt;*Have Mom find ears on clearance for $4.99 (otherwise 11.99 and up) so you can talk her into a pair for you and your baby brother-to-be...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307211717275870994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacA8CQE5xI/AAAAAAAAAbA/4rxMsNUdhBs/s320/DSC05620.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307212660825077522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacBy9PvNxI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/dVf5mTFyrbU/s320/DSC05617.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307211942523113554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacBJJXNEFI/AAAAAAAAAbI/cj38nta4JBI/s320/DSC05618.JPG" border="0" /&gt;*Wait SO PATIENTLY for all the rides (Dumbo was awesome, Winnie the Pooh is surprisingly scary, Buzz Lightyear was a little intense, and "It's A Small World" was precious...) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307213991208629714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacDAZT5NdI/AAAAAAAAAbo/CnODzy8c9N8/s320/DSC05607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307213988406270786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacDAO3wm0I/AAAAAAAAAbg/pyvMpJHd-lw/s320/DSC05606.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307213981260010834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SacC_0P9VVI/AAAAAAAAAbY/3ucFDBvR5Kg/s320/DSC05604.JPG" border="0" /&gt;*MEET DAISY DUCK when Mom and Dad stumble upon her on the way out of the park for lunch break. Since all the other characters had 60 minute plus lines to meet them, you'll easily talk your parents into stopping for a quick hug and photo. Then proudly proclaim during lunch that, upon returning to Disney World in the afternoon, Daisy is planning on personally taking you into the Castle to meet Mickey and Minnie. Remain convinced of this fact for the remainder of the day. Become a life-long Daisy fan and talk Mom and Dad into buying you a plush rendering of her when they see that all plush toys are 25% off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307336209368431170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SadyKbb5OkI/AAAAAAAAAbw/8TQKJH5k65o/s320/DSC05610.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307336208456501554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SadyKYCeSTI/AAAAAAAAAb4/R4x97lc0xoA/s320/DSC05611.JPG" border="0" /&gt;*End your day so tuckered out that you fall asleep in your stroller leaving the park and stay asleep all the way home. Do so after having your one-and-only meltdown of the day, when you insist that YES, YOU WANT YOUR NEW DAISY DUCK IN THE BAG, &lt;em&gt;IN THE BAG, YOU WANT A BAG&lt;/em&gt; after Mom tells the cashier you don't need one since you'll just want to hold her. Marvel that Mom can't understand that you want to hold her, yes, but IN THE BAG.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307337438918094274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SadzR_3YLcI/AAAAAAAAAcA/fZy9Z2KsNmE/s320/DSC05626.JPG" border="0" /&gt;8) On your last night in Florida, have Mom and Dad take you to Downtown Disney, a free outside area that has a lego-world (and store) and many other attractions. Have Daddy hold you up so you can "pet the dinosaur." Sport the Minnie Mouse sweatshirt your Nana bought you. Get a nice employee to give you free stickers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307340495308005938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sad2D5zhIjI/AAAAAAAAAcY/UDp6rB7udhU/s320/DSC05627.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307341054775417602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sad2kd-8WwI/AAAAAAAAAcg/bkujvqKvcbk/s320/DSC05628.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307339621447973490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sad1RCbDOnI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/zs0N7AlQ1Ho/s320/DSC05631.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Overall, have an amazing vacation and state loudly and sadly on your last day that you don't want to go home but would rather "stay in Florida." Have Daddy put a movie on his iPod and watch it with headphones, quietly, silently, the entire plane ride back to MI, providing Mom and Dad with ample relaxation and wonder at how parents traveled before technology. Love every minute. Be glad to be home.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307345401472205554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sad6hesNwvI/AAAAAAAAAcw/YMbDMWyyCwE/s320/DSC05574.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307341678035660562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sad3Ivzw7xI/AAAAAAAAAco/iY2tlEkgf4M/s320/DSC05621.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-7477560887513054809?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-to-enjoy-trip-to-florida-when-you.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/Sab7ee64_ZI/AAAAAAAAAZw/uJDT6gtkgBA/s72-c/DSC05561.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-829343418153033476</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Feb 2009 03:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-02-16T19:31:39.645-08:00</atom:updated><title>We're Leaving On a Jet Plane...</title><description>...don't know when I'll be back again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, actually I &lt;em&gt;do, &lt;/em&gt;but I am SO EXCITED to get away for a little while!  We are all under the weather with colds and feel like all this COLD WEATHER has wreaked havoc on us this winter!  From cracking skin on our hands to dry, staic-ey hair, we are more than ready to get out from under all this snow and sub-zero temperatures.  As we try to make some big decisions and search out the ultimate best for our future, we are looking forward to some time to rest, talk, and pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise some sunshiney pictures and Madalyn stories when I return!  It's the little peanut's first time flying, so I'm SURE it will be an adventure for us all :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signing off for now,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-829343418153033476?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/02/were-leaving-on-jet-plane.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-5579828908835433261</guid><pubDate>Fri, 13 Feb 2009 15:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-02-13T08:50:10.562-08:00</atom:updated><title>Coughs, Couches, and Goldfishies...</title><description>"Mama!  MAMA!"  came the cries at 5 am this morning.  I opened one bleary eye from my makeshift bed on the living room couch.  I had chosen this resting place not due to any marital disputes (neither of us have ever camped out on the couch for that reason!), but as a result of a husband who apparently moves compulsively *every 10 seconds* in his sleep after taking Benadryl before bed.  Between the constant rustling in the bed and Madalyn's all-night coughs coming from the bedroom across the hall...it had been a long night! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I hear the early morning cries, and I stumble into M's room.  She's crying, so it takes me a minute to figure out what she is saying.  Eventually the words come clear..."Goldfishy, Mommy, I want Goldfishy in my bed".  My mind is spinning...M often refers to our beta fish, Bubbles, as "Goldfishy", so I ask, "You want Bubbles in your bed, M?  Bubbles can't come in your bed, sweetie.  He has to stay in his bowl."  "NO Mommy!  GOLDFISHIES!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh.  My precious one is referring to the familiar, cheddar, fish-shaped snacks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it is, fellow Moms and Moms-to-be (and Dads too!),...what do you do?  For those of you that answer that you calmly explain to  your child that snacks do not go in their beds, particularly at five in the morning, and especially when they have been sick for nearly a week straight, I commend you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who would go in the kitchen, get a bag (albeit small) full of the said fishies and bring them back into bed just so you can get a little peace and a few more minutes of sleep when you have been up all night with a tossing husband and coughing child...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm among you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a little absent from the blog-world lately as real life has kept me very busy.   I will try to be more faithful!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-5579828908835433261?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/02/coughs-couches-and-goldfishies.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-3356452189100999515</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Jan 2009 16:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-01-22T08:50:41.780-08:00</atom:updated><title>THE COW: Madalyn's Lesson on Sharing...</title><description>"I love church.  They have all the animals about Jesus" says Madalyn as we make our way inside the children's wing for Wednesday night service.  I wasn't aware that there were "animals about Jesus" in her class, but the thought makes me smile.  In fact, I am unaware of most of what transpires during the hour-and-a-half that M spends in 2-year old land each week.  All I know is that her teachers, um, &lt;em&gt;always &lt;/em&gt;have an anecdote to share with Dan and I when we pick her up.  And the conversation usually begins with, "Oh, you are &lt;em&gt;Madalyn's &lt;/em&gt;parents?..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the funniest part this week came when we were in the car on the way home:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: "That little boy wanted to play with the cow but it was MY turn to play with the cow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Well, did you let him have his turn and then ask if you could play?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:  "It wasn't his turn, Mommy.  It was &lt;em&gt;mine&lt;/em&gt;.  I told him "It's my turn, please!"  But he wouldn't give it to me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Well, when you want to share a toy, you need to wait for your turn, and then ask nicely.  If the little boy won't let you have a turn, you can ask the teacher to help."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan interjects:  "Or you can just find something else to play with, M."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Right.  That's what I meant.  &lt;em&gt;I'm sure&lt;/em&gt; I wouldn't encourage our child to tattle.  It's a good thing she has a wise Daddy around!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:  "Or HE can find something else to play with, and &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;can play with the cow.  I'll say "Please!" and he will say "Thank you!" and then I'll say "You're welcome!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Oh, look, here's a bible verse on your paper from class.  Did you learn this verse today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M:  No. I wanted a turn with the cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad it's all sinking in...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-3356452189100999515?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/01/cow-madalyns-lesson-on-sharing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-3372758350152542310</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Jan 2009 21:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-01-19T20:14:11.532-08:00</atom:updated><title>POP Goes My Composure...</title><description>&lt;em&gt;*Edited to Add: The comment at the end of this post about finding a new church is meant humorously; Dan and I LOVE, LOVE our church and the people there! Plus, it's big, so the amount of people who actually witnessed this event is a small percentage ;)! Just thought I'd clarify...**&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Original Post&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M and I wake up and go about the business of getting ready for church. Daddy is &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;out plowing all the snow that was once again dumped on our frigid state. So we eat our cheerios, take a shower (Mommy), get dressed (both :), and go about the business if getting ourselves out of the house solo. Without Daddy's faithful assistance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we do o-kay. Until I am backing up out of the driveway and promptly get stuck in the foot and a half ridge that has been plowed &lt;em&gt;into &lt;/em&gt;our drive. I try pulling forward and readjusting, then reverse again. Stuck. Again. Stuck, stuck, still very stuck. "What's happening, Mommy? We have to go to church!" M, who clings to the hour-a-week she gets to spend in her two year old class like a lifeline, is concerned when I say, "We're stuck, Maddy, we might not be able to go to church." I run to grab a shovel to see if I can dig out around the tires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I'd like to give a &lt;s&gt;sarcastic&lt;/s&gt; &lt;strong&gt;shout out&lt;/strong&gt; to our neighbor across the street out who was out snow blowing his driveway during this time. He continued to do so the entire while that a pregnant girl was shoveling, getting back in the car and trying to move, and shoveling some more. &lt;em&gt;Thanks, Buddy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anyways, &lt;/em&gt;pure sweetness, because during the time we were stuck, I told M we needed to pray and ask Jesus to help us get unstuck&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt; She did so with all her little heart. And then when we &lt;em&gt;finally &lt;/em&gt;were on our way, after a hearty "Thank You, Jesus!", she retold the event on the way to church by saying, "Mommy, I prayer-ed, and Jesus got us unstuck!" And if that doesn't make you smile, I don't know what will :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get there a teensy bit late, we get M to her classroom, I get me to the service, I enjoy the service, I go and get M, and everything is beautiful. We come back to the atrium, where bagels and coffee are being served, and M informs me that "I want bread, Mommy" after seeing a child walk by with a bagel. At this moment I should mention that our family attends a large church, which has a huge main campus about thirty minutes away from our house, and many satellite locations. One just opened in a local high school very close to our house. The atrium in this particular building has very high ceilings. You'll need to remember that in a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get a bagel and take a seat at a table in this central gathering place. It's one of those mother-daughter moments, just M and I, enjoying a bagel and the unrushed peace of our morning schedule. Many children are running around, and M notices that most of them have balloons. I conclude that the older kids must have gotten balloons in Sunday school or something. M mentions that she wants a balloon, but, all in all, handles the situation pretty well, and continues eating her bagel. And then a sweet little angel child comes over and hands my girl a huge blue balloon. My heart melts, M is thrilled, and we happily continue munching, this time with M keeping one hand on the balloon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of nowhere, and for no apparent reason, the balloon pops. And when I say "pops" what I mean is "makes a sound like a bomb going off, or at the &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; least, gunfire." I promise you I am not exaggerating. It must have had something to do with the very high ceilings, and perhaps the current humidity and phase of the moon, but the sound is enough to silence each and every conversation taking place in the entire area. All eyes are on us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you know, M is crying, and you know I am flushed, but, &lt;strong&gt;you know&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;it was just a balloon that popped.&lt;/em&gt; Not a big deal, right? Another &lt;em&gt;sweet angel child&lt;/em&gt; (we apparently have a lot of them at church) tells me she will run downstairs and get M another balloon. Meanwhile, the halo-clad kid from earlier comes back and gives M her OTHER balloon. How incredibly sweet. Conversation starts to return to normal and church staff return their cell phones to their pockets, relieved there was, in fact, no actual bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then...do you think you know what happens next? Yep, THE SECOND BALLOON POPS! Friends, these children had been playing with these balloons for a good 15 minutes, but the minute M and I touch them, they explode. Again, same noise, same halt in conversation, &lt;em&gt;same tears. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, did I say "same tears"? That's not entirely true. Because (and here's the TRULY embarrassing part), upon the bursting of the second balloon...&lt;em&gt;I also begin to cry. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. Publicly. With all eyes on me. Right along with my distraught toddler. &lt;em&gt;For no apparent reason other than stinkin' pregnancy raging hormones&lt;/em&gt;! I mean, SERIOUSLY? What mom cries over two burst balloons?? If I try to explain it rationally (which, believe me, I can't!), I was sad over seeing M so sad, so scared, so shaken up. Her little lip trembling, her body shaking, saying through her sobs, "That balloon scared my ears!" over and over...well, it broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sweet mom comes over and gives M another balloon, this time complete with a plastic bag to keep it in, because you know that child is not touching another balloon directly for a loooonnngg, loooonnng time. I sniffle through a conversation with Sweet Mom, trying, unsuccessfully, to compose myself when she asks me my name. My hand's a little damp when she shakes it. I mumble about being pregnant and hormonal, and then M and I gather our composure, and vacate the premises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH MY STINKIN' GOSH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I need your opinion...&lt;em&gt;do we look for a new church?&lt;/em&gt; Or do I hold my head high next Sunday and pretend it is perfectly normal to break down into a weepy puddle when a green balloon pops? Let me know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovin' the madness,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-3372758350152542310?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/01/pop.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-8171336607773689027</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Jan 2009 04:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-01-13T21:14:00.982-08:00</atom:updated><title>Our Baby BOY!!!</title><description>Our little Baby Carney was seen by Dan and I on Monday at approximately 3:39 pm for the first time.  We went into the darkened room, I laid up on the table, Dan sat in a chair and then I told him to move the chair over by the table because he was too far away :).  He held my hand, I exposed my tummy and the ultrasound tech said "this gel is warm" as she squirted the blue goo on me.  The second the probe touched my belly...a baby appeared up on the screen.  It takes my breath away &lt;em&gt;every time &lt;/em&gt;(o-kay, the two times I've experienced having an ultrasound)!  I fully realize that there is an &lt;em&gt;actual baby living inside me.&lt;/em&gt;  With toes and fingers and everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby C. was quite an active little soul, moving, squirming, sucking, and putting &lt;em&gt;his &lt;/em&gt;little hands up to &lt;em&gt;his &lt;/em&gt;little face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right...very early on in the ultrasound, the tech confirmed that we wanted to know the gender, and then said..."here's your gender!  It's a boy!" as she froze the screen on the confirming evidence.  WOW!  Not only were almost all of YOUR guesses wrong (except for my Mom!), but Dan and I both strongly thought it was a girl as well...but we are thrilled.  Dan literally didn't stop smiling for the rest of the ultrasound.  My mind immediately went to what it means to have a son...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Baby Boy weighed in at approximately 9oz, which puts him in the 50th percentile, and I joked that we've never heard anything less than 98th with Maddy!  The tech said that I'm certainly not out of the woods yet for having a big baby since the size usually comes later in pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, thank God, everything was normal and healthy...four chambered heart, two kidneys, in tact spinal cord, normal size fat pad at nape of neck, mouth and nose formed...we are so thankful for a healthy baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A healthy baby boy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took one last look before the procedure was complete, thinking to myself that was the last time I would see our &lt;em&gt;son &lt;/em&gt;until June.  I can't wait to hold him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-8171336607773689027?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/01/our-baby-boy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-8972666501446127533</guid><pubDate>Fri, 09 Jan 2009 15:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-01-10T13:02:26.816-08:00</atom:updated><title>Boy or Girl???</title><description>*Updated to add: REALLY? &lt;em&gt;Everyone &lt;/em&gt;so far guessed "girl"! I'm pretty amazed by that. We'll see if any other votes roll in...*&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Alright, kiddos, here it is, the big moment of truth. Monday is my ultrasound at 3:30pm, and although I am not looking forward to the "drink-three-glasses-of-water-an-hour-before-the-appointment-thing" (why oh why do they do this to pregnant women? I can't drink a teaspoon of water without having to pee 5 minutes later!), I am GREATLY looking forward to seeing Baby C in &lt;strike&gt;living color&lt;/strike&gt; black and white. Oh, and that little issue of BOY OR GIRL will be revealed! &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Or twins. I am still holding out a great deal of hope for this &lt;em&gt;little &lt;/em&gt;option, as unlikely is at may be! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I want to hear your guesses, complete with rationale, if there is any :). Gut feelings count too. Here is some data for your consideration:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The heart rate has been 155, 160, and 144 respectively the three times I've heard it. There is no scientific support for the heart rate theory, in fact, clinical studies disprove it, but I know a lot of people still give it a lot of credence. So do with this info what you will!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm feeling about the same amount of movement I felt with Maddy at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I was much more nauseous in the beginning of my pregnancy than I was with M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I've gained...wait a minute, a girl's got to have some secrets ;)! I'll just say being pregnant during the holidays is rough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I have had one dream where the baby was a boy (right after I found out I was prego) and one two nights ago where the baby was a smaller, blonder version of Madalyn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it! So guess away, and, on Monday evening, I'll post the gender and list all of you who were right on the money. I'll brag about how intuitive, perceptive, and &lt;em&gt;maybejustatad &lt;/em&gt;prophetic you are if you get it right :)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-8972666501446127533?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/01/boy-or-girl.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-1416768067071572389</guid><pubDate>Fri, 02 Jan 2009 02:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-01-01T18:32:06.354-08:00</atom:updated><title>"You Can't Wear A Five Dollar Bra..."</title><description>...says Oprah.  Seriously, I heard her say it.  The woman believes in the power of a good brassiere in making you look your best.  And, I have to say, I agree.  I've tried plenty of discount, Target-type versions that never compare to a good old Victoria Secret counterpart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who has $50+ to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;spend&lt;/span&gt; on a single bra?  Well, I hope you do, actually.  But I don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was pretty thrilled about &lt;a href="http://www.barenecessities.com/feature.asp?pagename=clearance"&gt;this sale at Bare Necessities&lt;/a&gt;.  Free shipping on any orders over $25, and I just scored two bras that would have normally totaled $106 for $31.  That, my friends, is the best of both worlds...good bras at bargain prices.  I'm sure Oprah will be so proud of me.  You know, when she reads this blog.  Y'all didn't know she was a reader? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ohandalso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, some Juicy Couture pants happened to fall into my online shopping cart.  I know, I know, but just listen...they are black velour and wonderful.  And maternity.  AND normally $98 on sale for $19.99 (!!!!!!!!!)  AND I just got Christmas money.  AND when I put them on, I don't plan on taking them off for the duration of my pregnancy, and quite possibly some time after, making them an even better value. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it, friends.  $204 worth of merchandise just purchased for $50.97 out the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy yourself something pretty!  Make Oprah proud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-1416768067071572389?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-cant-wear-five-dollar-bra.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-5277684347144748370</guid><pubDate>Wed, 24 Dec 2008 04:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-23T20:18:42.758-08:00</atom:updated><title>...and three days old.</title><description>I should be wrapping. And drinking the s&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lurpee&lt;/span&gt; my sweet husband just got me. But first, some thoughts :)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just happened to notice my ticker on the side of my blog that keeps track of Maddy's age. Normally, I'm much more prone to look at the one directly below it...the one that keeps track of how far along I am in my pregnancy...and mentally try to scoot it along at a faster pace. But I just noticed how old Madalyn is &lt;em&gt;today&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 years. 7 months. 2 weeks. And 3 days old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 3 days are what got me. Sometimes it's so easy to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;frustrated&lt;/span&gt; with toddler-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dom&lt;/span&gt; (as in "where do the pee-pees go, Maddy? 'In the potty, Mommy.' "Then WHY are they in your panties??") But there is a part of her that is still so little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized tonight it must be the "3 days old" part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A wise Mommy once told me that your kids will never again be as little as they are right now, today, so enjoy &lt;em&gt;this moment. &lt;/em&gt;See, tomorrow she'll be 2 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and &lt;em&gt;4 days old. &lt;/em&gt;It's a subtle difference, sure, but it's there. How else do they get from being infants to teenagers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many days old are your tiny ones? Or if you don't have any children yet, remember to savor their smallness when they do come, no matter what their ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when they keep picking their noses after you've told them repeatedly to stop. I mean, I've heard other people's kids do that, and I'm sure it's just disgusting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-5277684347144748370?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-three-days-old.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-7916306361771153069</guid><pubDate>Sat, 20 Dec 2008 04:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-19T20:39:29.096-08:00</atom:updated><title>Oh, Little M...</title><description>M's down for the night.  She's talking softly in her bed, and then is quiet.  All of sudden, I hear crying.  She's clearly upset about something, so I listen to hear what she's saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want my crib back!  I want to sleep in my crib!  I don't LIKE my big girl bed!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right.  The girl hasn't slept in a crib since...I really can't even remember when we switched her.  Um, August?  She's never looked back.  We don't &lt;em&gt;talk &lt;/em&gt;about cribs.  She hasn't &lt;em&gt;seen &lt;/em&gt;a crib lately.  So whyintheworld is she suddenly, acutely, missing her crib at 9:45 at night???  Oh, M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I go in to comfort her and patiently explain that the crib is no longer a slumbering option, she wants me to stay and snuggle.  Which is all good and fine, but, remember, the little angel is in a toddler bed that doesn't comfortably accommodate a Mama with a growing tummy.  When parts of my body start going numb, I tell her that it's time to go to sleep, and Mommy is going out of her room...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, Mommy.  God said He wants you to stay in here with Maddy.  You stay here, Mama."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come again?  I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; believe M can probably hear God's voice clearer than I, so I lay with her awhile longer, just to be sure.  I mean, how can I argue with that??  I have no idea how she would even know to say such a thing!  It's not common practice in our family to say, "God said for you to do so and so"!  Then my oh so wise girl says, "Get out of here, Mama.  You can come back later." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is that.  We are often just shaking our heads by the end of the day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-7916306361771153069?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-little-m.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-3598307014206907596</guid><pubDate>Fri, 19 Dec 2008 14:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-19T09:27:20.784-08:00</atom:updated><title>A Steal of a Deal...</title><description>***Edited to add: And, just like that, this item is back up to $50.00.  The Robeez, however, are still there.  Oh, Amazon...you're such a tease...****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUu2oFy08YI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/X_KjK5Cwy_8/s1600-h/market.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281515787888423298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUu2oFy08YI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/X_KjK5Cwy_8/s320/market.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Anyone still need a gift for a toddler/pre-school girl?? Or do you have one with a birthday coming up? Because this here little gem is a steal and a half at Amazon right now...&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00160LHJG/?tag=wantnot-20"&gt;The Playskool Cherry Blossom Market&lt;/a&gt; for $15.00...that's (get this) 75% off! And if you get your order to over $25.00, you can cash in on free shipping as well. (To do so, I would recommend adding on &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Playskool-Cherry-Blossom-Produce-Stand/dp/B00160NHLM/ref=pd_sim_t_7"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Playskool-Deluxe-Petal-Birthday-Celebration/dp/B00160HY98/ref=pd_sim_t_3"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;). You'd wind up with a very impressive gift, and could cackle to yourself over what a steal you got while feeling ever so smug!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only word of caution would be to snatch it up now, before Amazon jacks the price back up. I've already watch the LeapFrog fridge phonics dip to below $10, and then soar back up. Oh, and &lt;em&gt;stinkin' cute&lt;/em&gt; Robeez infant shoes were $9.87 (normally $27.99), but that came and went as well. (**Edited to add: OH WAIT! I lied! &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Robeez-Little-Gingerbread-Slip-10-5-11-5/dp/B000VTQ7XE/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=shoes&amp;amp;qid=1229699674&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt; are the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Robeez-Little-Snowman-Slip-10-5-11-5/dp/B000VTX5KC/ref=pd_bbs_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=shoes&amp;amp;qid=1229699674&amp;amp;sr=8-2"&gt;Robeez&lt;/a&gt;...they are still available! I told you this was crazy!**)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I keep taking deep breaths and telling myself that Maddy has a tent. Maddy is getting a kitchen for Christmas from her grandparents. She doesn't &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; a market. She &lt;em&gt;doesn't&lt;/em&gt; need it. &lt;em&gt;She doesn't&lt;/em&gt;....... However, my newborn niece on the other hand...hmmm...I wonder if I could save it for a few years???!!! I &lt;em&gt;would &lt;/em&gt;feel pretty smug when I pulled it out of my closet and wrapped it for her 3rd birthday :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****This deal courtesy of the ever fabulous &lt;a href="http://wantnot.net/"&gt;WantNot&lt;/a&gt;...which you all should be reading if you want to get in on some truly amazing deals :)*****&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-3598307014206907596?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/steal-of-deal.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUu2oFy08YI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/X_KjK5Cwy_8/s72-c/market.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-5443994143609296552</guid><pubDate>Wed, 17 Dec 2008 19:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-17T12:16:11.898-08:00</atom:updated><title>Silly/ Favorite Maddy pics...</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcfb1rzRI/AAAAAAAAAYI/oPKZMEFQtec/s1600-h/100_2765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280853733187243282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcfb1rzRI/AAAAAAAAAYI/oPKZMEFQtec/s320/100_2765.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *Daddy's birthday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcUDWqmUI/AAAAAAAAAYA/FIw-PZtqG7M/s1600-h/100_2763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280853537636129090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcUDWqmUI/AAAAAAAAAYA/FIw-PZtqG7M/s320/100_2763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcDNx7Q8I/AAAAAAAAAX4/4ObbzdNnMh8/s1600-h/100_2764.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280853248377045954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcDNx7Q8I/AAAAAAAAAX4/4ObbzdNnMh8/s320/100_2764.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlZLLrb-qI/AAAAAAAAAXw/Ic2TEwgnx_0/s1600-h/DSC05396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280850086717029026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlZLLrb-qI/AAAAAAAAAXw/Ic2TEwgnx_0/s320/DSC05396.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlZKvvrXOI/AAAAAAAAAXo/W0DYZFSYOkI/s1600-h/DSC05394.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280850079218621666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlZKvvrXOI/AAAAAAAAAXo/W0DYZFSYOkI/s320/DSC05394.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *Maddy calls this her "dinosaur face"!&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My day has so far included:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;*Telling Maddy it was "still night-night time" when she woke up at 7:30am this morning. It was still dark(ish), and Mommy didn't sleep so well with Daddy being out plowing snow all night, so I was hoping for &lt;em&gt;justafewmoreminutesplease.&lt;/em&gt; My reward for this trick? The little peanut snuggled up in my bed and slept until 9am. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;*No potty accidents so far! M is in &lt;s&gt;the same pair of undies she started the day out in &lt;/s&gt;a diaper, but only because she is down for a nap. Don't, however, ask me how many accidents she had yesterday, nor inquire about how many I am sure to have this afternoon simply because of the above brag.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;*Making chocolate cherry cookies with M. It started out so nicely: I found a recipe in a local paper, had all the ingredients already in the house, had visions of M and I spending quality Mommy/Daughter time. I was even envisioning sharing the sure-to-be-perfect cookie recipe with all of you. However, it called for the unsweetened chocolate to be "melted and cooled", so I popped the bowl in the fridge to speed up the process after heating it. Bad idea, because it got &lt;em&gt;too &lt;/em&gt;cold and didn't combine well with the rest of the ingredients. So I have cookies with chocolate flecks. They are o-kay, but not share-worthy. Maddy had a ball helping, even if she did dump a good amount of sugar onto the floor instead of into the bowl :). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;*Cleaning up the kitchen, making lunch, cleaning again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;*Seriously contemplating a nap. Everyone else is sleeping, after all. Granted, Dan was up all night working. But, still...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-5443994143609296552?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/silly-favorite-maddy-pics.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUlcfb1rzRI/AAAAAAAAAYI/oPKZMEFQtec/s72-c/100_2765.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-4012385414485034440</guid><pubDate>Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-15T21:33:40.909-08:00</atom:updated><title>Then Again, I Cry @ OnStar Commercials...</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.kensingtonchurch.org/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280141861001482930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 94px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUbVDBSp0rI/AAAAAAAAAXg/yMenCXk7g8U/s320/uncertain+times.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Kensington's &lt;/a&gt;been keepin' it real lately about the current recession and it's effect. I'm so glad. Because there are a lot of struggling, hurting people right now who need a lot more than pat answers or trite quips. I wanted to leave a &lt;a href="http://www.kensingtonchurch.org/?indextabs_int=1&amp;amp;audio=w3"&gt;link to Sunday's message &lt;/a&gt;because I love its premise *(I just realized that you still need to click on "Current Series" then "Audio Messages" and "December 14th" to get to what I'm talking about...sorry, it's not letting me link directly to the spot)*:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we trust that God will take care of us? I mean, &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt;? And, um, how? &lt;em&gt;How&lt;/em&gt; do we, who are down here, trust a God, who is up there, to contend with whatever lion is roaring in our face, breathing down our necks? Your "lion" (bankruptcy, loss of a job, divorce, death of a loved one, pick your flavor) may be so scary, near, and real that you can smell his stinky breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church on Sunday was real, supportive, and very, very touching. It ended with a Rob Bell Nooma Video ("&lt;a href="http://www.nooma.com/Shopping/ProductDetails.aspx?ProductID=270&amp;amp;PMID=25&amp;amp;mode=FLV"&gt;Rain&lt;/a&gt;", my fav), so you know that means good, right? Oh, and it also ended with a tearful, pregnant hormonal girl. I'd love to say my tears were a reflection of the depth of my feeling (which they were), but then again, I tear up when I hear those OnStar commercials where the wife has just been in an accident and they patch her through to her husband who says "Baby, I'm on my way." Whew. Only 5 and 1/2 more months. Anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the song "Hard To Get" by Rich Mullins, and was about to write out the lyrics, but, I found this, and it is ten times better :). I could have written these lyrics, although, if I had, I'd be a famous songwriter, but you know what I mean...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ku-tFT_pZ4s&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my favorite quote from the song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't see how You're leading me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless You've lead me here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To where I'm lost enough to let myself be lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, You've been here all along, I guess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just Your ways and You are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;just plain hard to get."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-4012385414485034440?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/then-again-i-cry-onstar-commercials.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUbVDBSp0rI/AAAAAAAAAXg/yMenCXk7g8U/s72-c/uncertain+times.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-6553171197208582686</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Dec 2008 21:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-15T14:05:31.774-08:00</atom:updated><title>Maddy!  Look at the camera!  Smile!</title><description>**Updated** Thank you for all your responses...I truly appreciate the input! In the end, the bottom picture won out and is officially on our card. I was very surprised how much love picture Number 1 got, even though I never intended it to be an official contender! Hey, if you guys love Maddy not looking at the camera and making funny faces, I'll be sure to hook you up! I've got 10 times more of those kind of pics than the traditional kind! :)*******&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Here are two options for our Christmas card (and yes, I'm ordering them tomorrow :), so let me know what you think...a special thanks to Miyuki, our photographer, who patiently said, "Maddy! Look at the camera! Maddy! Please smile!" over and over. This first one is just thrown in to be funny. The two choices follow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279389038219707922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUQoW94tRhI/AAAAAAAAAWw/MC3XpV0UVv8/s320/DSC05429.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279390183196381394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUQpZnQa0NI/AAAAAAAAAXA/l7q7u0WA-Ws/s320/DSC05431.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279389514573664002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUQoyscVzwI/AAAAAAAAAW4/qYt_E2dWtSU/s320/DSC05432.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Let me know what you think!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-6553171197208582686?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/maddy-look-at-camera-smile.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUQoW94tRhI/AAAAAAAAAWw/MC3XpV0UVv8/s72-c/DSC05429.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-1686465286458793452</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Dec 2008 02:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-12T19:19:51.286-08:00</atom:updated><title>"And An 'I Spy' Book..."</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUMk9SiRnLI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/hzfkhsdy-j4/s1600-h/DSC05392.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279103823574572210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUMk9SiRnLI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/hzfkhsdy-j4/s320/DSC05392.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She'd been rehearsing her list for weeks.  "Madalyn, what are you going to ask Santa for, for Christmas?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Dora ball.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Dora game for my Leap Pad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Lightening McQueen toy.  (Think "Cars")&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;An "I Spy" Book.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And that was that.  I can't tell you why all of those items were picked, but they were what she told us over and over that she wanted for Christmas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So the big day came.  We met friends for an evening celebration of the amazing, unique lighting of a nearby downtown.  Santa would be there.  Sure enough, we found a long line (outside, of course, in the freezing cold), and joined it.  We inched along, and by the time we neared the large stage where Santa sat, Madalyn was dancing with excitement.  I wasn't sure if she planned to sit on Santa's lap or put on a show, complete with robust renditions of toddler-interpreted Christmas carols.  It was our turn and I handed her over to Mrs. Claus, who deposited her on Santa's lap.  She was awestruck, caught up in the moment.  When the question came, "And what do &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;want for Christmas?", my never-at-a-loss daughter...lost her words.  Her eyes turned to me and I recited her list:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Dora ball.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Dora game for her Leap Pad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Lightening McQueen toy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Right, Maddy?  That's what you want?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Madalyn looks at me.  She looks at Santa.  She waits a beat.  Clearly, it's now or never.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"AND, an 'I Spy Book!" she instructs.  I laugh...I had totally forgotten her last item, and she wouldn't take a chance on not asking for the book!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As we walk off the stage, Madalyn looks at me and says, "So...where are the toys, Mommy?"  She apparently thought Santa produced on the spot! ;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-1686465286458793452?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-i-spy-book.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/SUMk9SiRnLI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/hzfkhsdy-j4/s72-c/DSC05392.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-5745766525652643835</guid><pubDate>Wed, 10 Dec 2008 20:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-10T13:15:52.617-08:00</atom:updated><title>Now Accepting Christmas Miracles</title><description>Yesterday a tearful husband called me at 9:18 am (approximately...ahem) and told me his boss had called him into his office and laid him off. Unexpectedly. A few weeks ago, all the salaried and year-round employees in his company took a significant pay cut, and we thought that was the end of it. Sure it was a blow. But I'm sure you can guess our mantra, right? "At least you still have a j_ _!" Can you guess the missing letters? Sorry, there's no prize. So you understand why Tuesday's news seemed a particularly low blow. Oh, and the little detail of a big national holiday coming up. What is it again? Oh yeah....CHRISTMAS. Nice timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we pray. Well, first we cry, and rehash the whole event, and wonder &lt;em&gt;whatintheworld&lt;/em&gt; we're going to do, and how quickly we can sell our house. We resolve to try every avenue, explore every option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then...we put up all our Christmas decorations. Since we are real-tree people, we haven't decorated yet because we haven't gotten our tree. We haven't gotten our tree because we are waiting to go with Dan's brother and his wife and they are available this upcoming weekend. Anyways, we put up the decorations. Which seems like an odd thing to do the day after Dan was laid off. But what is a normal thing to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had a lot of (financial) ups and downs (o-kay, mostly downs) in our married life so far, but our &lt;em&gt;married life so far &lt;/em&gt;has been awesome. There was a small, irrational little part of me that was actually glad that Dan will be home to spend time with us. We've been here before. Up until now, Dan has been laid off every winter...it was just part of his prior position. Of course, we were thrilled that his new job was year-round and salary. Such peace of mind, we thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We aren't quite sure what to do, but we've been praying hard even before this happened. We've known we needed to make some (major life) changes, and were just asking for the right path. So what seems disastrous we are so hopefully interpreting as a nudge. In, you know, &lt;em&gt;a direction&lt;/em&gt;. Now, knowing &lt;em&gt;what direction &lt;/em&gt;would, of course, be particularly helpful. So, if you'd like to pray for us, please pray that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our preference? We don't care if it's hard, or challenging, or new, or different, or near or far. We will not lose our optimism, our joy in our family, our love for each other. Those things are absolutes. I saw my husband smile today, heard my daughter's uncontrollable laugh, ate yummy grilled turkey and provolone sandwiches with mustard, and made the house feel like Christmas (minus the tree). I am thankful for each of those things. But, Dear Lord, we need a plan. We want to please You and make You proud. We want to be generous and love each other and others well. We celebrate Baby Jesus, Advent, and that He grew up to do so much with a few small fishes and loaves of bread. Make 'em multiply. We're ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-5745766525652643835?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/now-accepting-christmas-miracles.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-3076986057364507473</guid><pubDate>Mon, 08 Dec 2008 05:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-07T22:08:14.465-08:00</atom:updated><title>Itty Bitty Not Me</title><description>A short little "Not Me Monday" post to give you a brief insight into the week of Maddy and I. It's been a bit trying around here. Someone tell me again how many more days until spring? We're going a little stir crazy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277296293058613874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STy5BKo-knI/AAAAAAAAAWI/FPwJPrG6c5w/s320/NotMeMonday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;In the landmark battle of Mama and The Socks v. Madalyn, once the victory of Mama became apparent and the socks were being put onto the feet, a certain two and a half year old most certainly &lt;em&gt;did not &lt;/em&gt;say to her patient, loving Mama who cares about the warmth of her toes, "You are going to have to go in time-out, Mommy, because YOU are not listening to ME."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A toddler with that much sass would &lt;em&gt;never &lt;/em&gt;be blossoming under my &lt;s&gt;perfect parenting&lt;/s&gt; loving care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I most &lt;em&gt;certainly did not &lt;/em&gt;have at least two days where I told Madalyn "It's a good thing you're cute" and she &lt;em&gt;did not &lt;/em&gt;lovingly embrace her Daddy when he walked in the door each evening as if her savior had come. I'm sure I had plenty of patience with frequent bouts of whining caused by caged-up-toddler-energy and crabby-hormonal-Mommy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;em&gt;did not &lt;/em&gt;tell Maddy that all Mommy wants for Christmas is for her to put her pee-pees and poo-poos in the potty EVERY time. And I &lt;em&gt;did not &lt;/em&gt;mean it with all my heart. I may mention this request to Santa next time I see him at the mall. It's worth a shot at this point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a great week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-3076986057364507473?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/itty-bitty-not-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STy5BKo-knI/AAAAAAAAAWI/FPwJPrG6c5w/s72-c/NotMeMonday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-6657955518469481931</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Dec 2008 16:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-06T08:52:36.282-08:00</atom:updated><title>Rebel Without A Cause?</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/2008/12/rebel-without-for-cause-raffle-way.html"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/BLOG%20DESIGN/ONCEUPONABLOG/RebelForACause.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I've talked about &lt;a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/2008/12/rebel-without-for-cause-raffle-way.html"&gt;MckMama's blog &lt;/a&gt;before and how entertaining I find it! Well, if that wasn't enough of a reason for you to visit, here's a great incentive: from now until December 14, you have a chance to enter an amazing raffle MckMama is offering. She is giving away a Canon Rebel SLR, the very piece of equipment she uses in her professional photography business. As if that wasn't enough, the prize package also includes an extra lens, a high speed SD card, a posh camera bag, a gorgeous camera strap, a blog makeover from a design studio, and a 16 x 20 canvas print of one of the amazing shots you take with your fancy new camera. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Wow! Right? What could make the whole thing better? To enter the raffle, MckMama asks that you give a $10.00 donation which will benefit some amazing charities. I won't give all the details, since you can read about it &lt;a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/2008/12/rebel-without-for-cause-raffle-way.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, but it's a beautiful thing, and she's raising a boat-load of money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A couple of my very cool friends have SLR cameras, and I've&lt;a href="http://meeghanrayner.blogspot.com/2008/09/photo-class.html"&gt; seen &lt;/a&gt;their &lt;a href="http://rebekahpinchback.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-153.html"&gt;beautiful work&lt;/a&gt;, so this is a prize not to miss! Have fun :).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-6657955518469481931?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/12/rebel-without-cause.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779229284781060654.post-6391865184057363263</guid><pubDate>Sun, 30 Nov 2008 04:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-29T20:54:14.496-08:00</atom:updated><title>Happy Thanksgiving (Weekend)!</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STIZ_o9s-4I/AAAAAAAAAWA/k141oN6NhSA/s1600-h/100_2739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274306694722943874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STIZ_o9s-4I/AAAAAAAAAWA/k141oN6NhSA/s320/100_2739.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STIZ_Sr4gII/AAAAAAAAAV4/rWJpZUIfS0M/s1600-h/100_2742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274306688742621314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STIZ_Sr4gII/AAAAAAAAAV4/rWJpZUIfS0M/s320/100_2742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This post is a thinly-veiled attempt to say "Happy Thanksgiving" to everyone, while really just showing off how cute Madalyn's outfit was on Thanksgiving Day ;)! Yes, those boots &lt;em&gt;do &lt;/em&gt;come in your size; we purchased them at Journeyz Kids and then I saw them at the regular Journeyz store in women's sizes! They were a little more than my normal shoe budget for Maddy (which is about $9.99 at Target :), but the dress was a hand-me-down, so it all works out, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sincerely hope your Thanksgiving was warm and contented.  While these are hard times (ecspecially for Michigan. Ahem.), there is so much to be thankful for: our health, family, clean drinking water, a warm bed...I could go on and on.  Oh, and for a husband who drove all the way to Olive Garden just to get his pregnant wife the stuffed mushrooms she was craving, even when she told him repeatedly not to.  He's sneaky.  And he's mine ;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2779229284781060654-6391865184057363263?l=butterflieswithears.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://butterflieswithears.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-thanksgiving-weekend.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Laura)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V3k6AbpVpsk/STIZ_o9s-4I/AAAAAAAAAWA/k141oN6NhSA/s72-c/100_2739.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item></channel></rss>