tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82185767420649205362024-03-05T13:51:51.893-08:00I left my heart at preschoolTo choose to have a child, is to choose to forever watch your heart walk around outside your body.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.comBlogger194125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-86648087089081755752013-11-18T22:47:00.000-08:002013-11-18T22:52:30.496-08:00Calling into a radio advice show - desperate or inspired?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Should I start with why my last blog post was from January 2012, and the one before that was sometime in 2010? Nah. To use my daughter's saying (that she picked up at her first overnight camp this summer), "I ain't got time for that!" Lovely, I know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was listening to Oprah radio on XM in my car on my way home from work today, and I decided to call in to the advice show that was on at the time. It was the first time I'd heard this particular show, but Dr. Jenn Berman sounded pretty down to earth and was giving some good advice. Plus, the topics for the show were all over the map, as am I.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I gave my "problem" to the call screener, and what do you know? Dr. Berman put my on the air!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My situation was this: Over the past year, we've had to move my Mom into assisted living and our family life has gone from crazy busy to insanely busy. One stop gap that my husband and I are considering is paring down on the number of pets we have. Currently that number = 1 dog, 1 cat, 6 rabbits and 1 fish. When I began to socialize this idea with my kids, the result was - as you might imagine - not pretty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My problem was this: Am I making the right decision in going down the road of taking family pets away from my kids; and if so, how do I go about navigating this rough road?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dr. Berman's advice was this: Get the kids involved in the care of the animals. This is an idea that I already thought of and had started implementing, although she did add some thoughts on creating a chart to help them take responsibility. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then she gave me another piece of advice. </span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Take time for myself.</b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've hear this before. I know this all too well. This is one of the</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> reasons I am desperately trying to find things to cut back on!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, she added a spin on the "me time" concept that I hadn't considered before. She said that before she had kids, it would take an entire spa day or weekend away to feel re-charged; but after kids, it really only takes an hour or two to get that same re-charging benefit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now that seems more doable!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Does that mean that you will see me posting here more frequently? Probably not. I've still got a to-do list a mile long. But as I write this, I'm realizing that it doesn't really matter how often I post or even if anyone is reading what I write. I started this blog as a way to journal and capture stories about my kids that touched me in some way. It's for me. It's one of the things I can do occasionally, for a short period of time, that helps me re-charge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's to new beginnings. Again.</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-61930038308038896362012-01-02T18:33:00.001-08:002012-01-02T18:37:31.654-08:00Welcome 2012!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPl3PcbhWs2hqBKSt2-aAcUNeamlDN2wtwSPkpS-ZD-E8sV7bXrcuRx3sOwwOewqnvG_VNGuoDkEBC2-ssyWRHLt_sXJvwry_1IUzUHiqWg1Gzs2Po7H9mTjss8PWPGqJ6RXoox5nwKOFe/s1600/2012+Beach.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPl3PcbhWs2hqBKSt2-aAcUNeamlDN2wtwSPkpS-ZD-E8sV7bXrcuRx3sOwwOewqnvG_VNGuoDkEBC2-ssyWRHLt_sXJvwry_1IUzUHiqWg1Gzs2Po7H9mTjss8PWPGqJ6RXoox5nwKOFe/s400/2012+Beach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693228511901573394" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Here's to a fresh new year, full of wonderful adventures, love and laughter.</span><br /></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-58433602040388475872010-07-15T20:46:00.000-07:002010-07-15T20:55:44.386-07:00all a girl needs<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAE5aQeO98DtH5EuM6UUWUEFUE1ccJ3uEqlJAkQv1pFIRN8J4vmld_kosOCykkI9Lq8edTb1WLrg7-sR6TsAnUfK1byIQVrKxpbV2NZt15UqiAbLDSzZ7P7iOl0d03a8Nj_HWNX37wbqYT/s1600/2010+May+077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494347190753268018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAE5aQeO98DtH5EuM6UUWUEFUE1ccJ3uEqlJAkQv1pFIRN8J4vmld_kosOCykkI9Lq8edTb1WLrg7-sR6TsAnUfK1byIQVrKxpbV2NZt15UqiAbLDSzZ7P7iOl0d03a8Nj_HWNX37wbqYT/s400/2010+May+077.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Seesa recently created these essential items for herself... a cell phone, a computer and a set of lipsticks. Yep. She's got it down. This is good advice for BlogHer actually. Maybe that's all I really need to pack!</span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-37223771692174628912010-04-27T23:27:00.000-07:002010-04-28T00:09:34.983-07:00Night Owl<span style="font-family:arial;">I love the night. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Tonight, I've been to an evening yoga class, had an hour long phone conversation in my car with my best friend while watching the boats gently bobbing in their dark ocean dock, came home, caught up on emails, did the dishes, made lunches for tomorrow and showered. Sounds like time for bed, right? Not yet...I'm still relishing in the quiet of the night.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I made myself a cup of hot cocoa and sat down to write this post. Out the windows, the calm blackness of night surrounds me. The only light in the room is the dim glow of one side table lamp and my computer screen. There are no sounds, except for a snoring dog and the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The night feels soft and comforting. I think more clearly at night, without the distractions and expectations that the daytime brings.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Last night, Seesa woke up with stomach pains. I was still awake, watching TV and working on my laptop. I gave her something to calm her stomach and had her sit with me awhile. I wanted to be sure there wasn't something more serious going on, but I also wanted to share the middle of the night with her. It reminded me of when I was a child, and I would wake up feeling sick. I'd crawl into bed in the middle of my Mom and Dad and listen to the late night television program they were watching, and eavesdrop on their conversation while I pretended to fall back asleep. At this time in my life when I'm examining a lot of the dysfunction of my childhood, it's nice to remember a time like that with fondness.</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-49330281465882224352010-04-17T20:36:00.000-07:002010-04-17T21:34:16.641-07:00Going on a bear hunt<span style="font-family:arial;">Going on a bear hunt, gonna catch a big one. Oh no! A forest. A big, dark forest. Can't go over it. Can't go under it. Can't go around it. Have to go <em>through</em> it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I've been thinking about the lines from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Were-Going-Classic-Board-Books/dp/0689815816">this book</a>. I read it to my kids occasionally, and they love it. It's one of those books that they can read along with. I remember hearing it when I was a kid and even chanting it around a fire pit at summer camp when I was young. I never truly appreciated the words until now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">After I lost my job, one of the things I was so excited about was having more time to blog. It hasn't really worked out that way. For a number of reasons, this has turned out to be a time of some major challenges in my life. Dealing with the end of my sixteen year career at my old firm and searching for what is next for me has been much more difficult than I had anticipated. Having my husband lose his job recently has obviously put another spin on our already spinning lives. There have been some issues with my Mom, who is getting older. Issues that have put a strain on my relationship with <a href="http://www.thenorwindians.blogspot.com/">my sister</a>. My oldest daughter's first year in Kindergarten, while fantastic, has been a huge change for all of us. She's been exhibiting some behaviors at school, and I've been struggling to determine what's normal and what's a sign of some bigger problem. My marriage..... Well, let's just say that it's been more than just a tough spot. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;">I will write more about these things, just not always here.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">There have been times in my life when I've not chosen the best coping mechanisms. Hell, sometimes I've chosen downright destructive ways of dealing - or rather, not dealing with my problems. This is one of those times. I can see myself going down a path...trying to work my way <em>over</em>, trying to sneak <em>under</em>, trying to find a path <em>around</em> this big dark forest. But I'm realizing that I can't. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">For me, and for my kids...<em>I am going to have to</em> <em>go through it</em>.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">So I'm going on a bear hunt. I'm going to catch a big one. What a beautiful day! I'm not scared. Only...I am. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-53023426045094600742010-04-14T08:17:00.000-07:002010-04-14T08:51:07.494-07:00Wordless Wednesday<span style="font-family:arial;">Why is it that I slather my children in 50+ sunblock before I expose their pale winter skin to the first warm rays of sunshine of the season... </span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460019521318654450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_ZCJxG0kQh_kmExYQZ82REELC98gyCguo2CZ4-QFOP9N72hLq_Xn20xG6lCPs6uiDLKGURJWUcOyzRMRPINR0BuCMka2GWSBOs85nCrKh2YGzqrB1Jko0MsCo_SfPHcAJrpnCmWXbuo4/s320/Spring+2010+041.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">...but I forget to put a drop of it on myself?</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-932729324591991042010-04-03T20:33:00.000-07:002010-04-07T21:37:20.962-07:00Happy Birthday Baby<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwnasT8-zSptUHP0AtdGa6841fc5qSHPAD4odu4acoUwGSjviYivL9m27x0eyaC3pOYDm4wDPb7y9bTx_Xp39N8zKSS9nSm7DmL0MK-7I3OBUXt1l9Uc3Ct0q0pbSaU3ZWxiX9M_HtGGy/s1600/Amelia+baby+pic.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457608589508760258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwnasT8-zSptUHP0AtdGa6841fc5qSHPAD4odu4acoUwGSjviYivL9m27x0eyaC3pOYDm4wDPb7y9bTx_Xp39N8zKSS9nSm7DmL0MK-7I3OBUXt1l9Uc3Ct0q0pbSaU3ZWxiX9M_HtGGy/s400/Amelia+baby+pic.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My baby girl turned FOUR this weekend. Does this mean that she's officially no longer my baby? At least she's still in Preschool for awhile longer...I've got some time before I need to come up with a new name for my blog. Why is it that I never considered that my children wouldn't always be in Preschool? Maybe because, in my eyes, they will always be my babies.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Milly, my favorite memory from your babyhood is how absolutely excited I would be to wake up in the middle of the night to nurse you. It was our little quiet time together, just you and me, and you'd always fall right back to sleep in my arms. I love that <a href="http://ileftmyheartatpreschool.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-little-angelina-jolie.html">you adore babies </a>and to play the Mommy. I love that you still smile when I call you silly names like "pie pie", "cookie pants", "scooter buns", "cracker jack"...yes, your Mommy is a little bit crazy. For YOU that is! (Ok, yes, your Mommy is also a really big geek. But I'm ok with it.) I love that your favorite stuffed animal is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lilo_&_Stitch">Stitch</a>, because "he's not a doggie, he's a <em>aylien </em>doggie". I love that your favorite food is artichokes. I love that your favorite color is "poople". I love how you frequently and randomly tell us that you love us. I love that you'll try almost anything at least once. I love how you'll play along with all of your big sister's games. I love that you speak your mind. All the time. (ok, I don't <em>always</em> love that one...) </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I love that you ran around at your birthday party saying "I'm four! I'm four! I can't beyeeve I'm four!". Me either baby. Me either.</span><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIDYRS_GkHuZo1k2spkQMzseEpzJFAuA5TMk6B4k5xTCHaZKycj13Ypp6bodJk0jTU7i-i8Y_ERk7LjEIr6w4I7-xrUtwEui89IEqNliFWtOowdGKwiyOQbg2tqxYyGjba6KNBq7qS07b/s1600/Milly+Four.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457607244755449618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIDYRS_GkHuZo1k2spkQMzseEpzJFAuA5TMk6B4k5xTCHaZKycj13Ypp6bodJk0jTU7i-i8Y_ERk7LjEIr6w4I7-xrUtwEui89IEqNliFWtOowdGKwiyOQbg2tqxYyGjba6KNBq7qS07b/s400/Milly+Four.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-26782103720617780482010-03-31T19:58:00.000-07:002010-03-31T20:46:55.659-07:00Wordless Wednesday<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDAfycIIgdrR0RTdVFGTrDmtO-LE6jeBDNJUEDxEza1lKErkxiTJb4GgkPno1ee8LvVFu9TG-SXDqK6t2W0Vzk7H7YrenNH3JpSRz3cf-tYh410-1t3tS2RfIVyC_4y3IxnhhEOpso4dHE/s1600/horse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455004413428188754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDAfycIIgdrR0RTdVFGTrDmtO-LE6jeBDNJUEDxEza1lKErkxiTJb4GgkPno1ee8LvVFu9TG-SXDqK6t2W0Vzk7H7YrenNH3JpSRz3cf-tYh410-1t3tS2RfIVyC_4y3IxnhhEOpso4dHE/s400/horse.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">Always securely tie up your horse before getting in the bath.</span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454999371886712850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzJjM0TT29Fi8JLyOMLgWoxos4n_Dy-EiDnH9j54Hqav95uXv9vZ0B1W4mX8my3JZaavwpY36OGOFSMoTgOsMbtnU4mk_n2e-xKfagymuMgVnpNeh-lQbE-dQ0MEMiEHKN9hF5OS2gQV0/s400/dogs.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">And don't forget to let the dogs out.</span><br /><br /></div></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-19228951182487214102010-03-30T22:17:00.000-07:002010-03-30T22:25:13.409-07:00You live, you learn<span style="font-family:arial;">You live, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You love, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You cry, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You lose, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You bleed, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You scream, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">You don't properly save a document you've spent 4 hours working on and lose the entire thing, you learn</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You grieve, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You choke, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You laugh, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You choose, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You pray, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You ask, you learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You live, you learn </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Thank you for this wisdom Alanis, but I'm guessing you can't help me with document recovery.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-73722296207553758862010-03-25T22:05:00.000-07:002010-03-25T22:17:17.890-07:00Toothbrushing Scare Tactics<span style="font-family:arial;">A local dentist visited Milly's Preschool class today, to talk to them about good oral hygiene, and send them each home with a new toothbrush. When I asked her about it, she gave the following account:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>"Mommy, did you know dat when you eat sugary snacks, dat sugar bugs get in your teef? An we haf to brush our teef because if we don't, den da sugar bugs make a hole in your neck and you can die?"</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">No sweetheart, I did not know that. Is this the lengths dentists are going these days to get kids to brush their teeth? Or, is my daughter just a little too much like <a href="http://ileftmyheartatpreschool.blogspot.com/2010/03/why-i-should-probably-drink-more-reason.html">her Dad</a>...?</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-68313463219019044782010-03-23T21:41:00.000-07:002010-03-23T21:53:30.890-07:00Why I should probably drink more, reason # 4<span style="font-family:arial;">The girls were playing outside with chalk, making "fairy dust". Seesa decided to cover the dog in her fairy dust. Awesome. I took a wet towel and cleaned him up. Afterwards, my husband asked if I had given the dog a bath. Ten minutes before dinner was ready? Um, no. No, I did not bathe the dog. I wiped the chalk off the dog sufficiently.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My husband insisted that I should have washed the dog because what if the chalk gets on his skin and he has some kind of reaction to it and his pores get clogged from it and it gets into his system and he gets a kidney infection and dies. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">You'd like to think I'm kidding right now, wouldn't you? I am not even exaggerating. I may have even left out a couple of the disastrous things that might happen to the dog, because I didn't really pay attention to most of it. It's a survival tactic I've developed over time.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My husband...the King of Overreaction, and my inspiration for the 4th reason that I should probably drink more.</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-47980689306015593802010-03-19T22:00:00.000-07:002010-03-19T22:19:39.616-07:00The winter of our unemployment<span style="font-family:arial;">I've learned that losing one's job, like many other changes in life, involves a grieving period. Grief has many stages... denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. My husband and I have been firmly entrenched in the denial phase of the loss of our jobs, and so have been escaping up to Lake Tahoe every chance we get in an effort to avoid the depression phase. Everyone has their different ways of dealing with grief. This is ours. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Denial is an essential part of the healing process. I prefer to think of it as seeing the silver lining in any situation. In this particular situation, the silver lining being both of us having the time off to head up to the snow as much as possible this winter. Avoiding the depressing processes of looking for a job is just an added benefit! I may even write a book after all of this. "The benefits of denial; A Users Guide" Or something like that. Got any clever title ideas? If I can get it published before BlogHer, they may even let me do a panel discussion on the subject! See? Yet another thing I can focus on rather than the depressing process of looking for a job. Did I mention that the job searching part of being out of work is sort of a downer? Great. Let's move on to the UP side of being out of work...!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Here's a little sampling of the fun we've been having in the snow.</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449092213756257138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ95cyjgUnWKb2Kx5jGXY3x3vWdPTQa-TBldimKfuzxalU2Trzgdt6qS3_4mBER8p1hJ2k0qx2nx_s_eXrz1QTt8cuH3s85G4O9dbzmmUwAVEaQA9FCiDjXj0ZVNXAJEWntp_1P_LvkIEq/s400/Tahoe+Collage.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450572093683258466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ptjy06tVzyRlMI6zSoa0F0vF7sNwljunP72T8LxanRG5b67a6LA7sEeURNUI258jrMEXfSV4QAzAebQStDACzmUklLKVx5LWLFxaMsMvU6VLu1Aygg8QYUq3rIJY-I62N8u4wm8cOTTV/s400/family+tubing.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My husband is an avid skier, so he is thrilled that both of our girls are taking to the slopes. Seesa is now skiing the intermediate runs with her Dad, and Milly is on her way to being able to handle the big hills too. I didn't learn to ski until I was older. I'm happy that my kids are learning while they are little and I hope it's a hobby they continue to enjoy as they grow. As for me, I'm content to help carry every one's gear and then hang out drinking my chai tea latte and admiring the spectacular views.</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449092228575335506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlqhdDeTQvVw9nMViMZjBJkcJPUPnOe4YqEf_FMwI_pWQpV07fAfWsfVIStdC8bSYehH3H1fyaJzqQMnoAcQ4EGtj9zjKUJn1sR8CdZ7Pvdt_xAJSqyk6uVvg4JZrFJEYDNW1-kUt4Hn_/s400/Tahoe+snow.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This past weekend is probably one of our last trips to the snow this winter - and I'm hoping that we move right on to the acceptance stage upon our return to reality, and find some freaking jobs so we can get a ski lease next year!!! </span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-87581841553208521992010-03-17T19:48:00.000-07:002010-03-19T19:52:02.221-07:00Happy St Patty's Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4JkapGfY0G1uLacO8iUO0fWsirtdIlZeFTFXkotGdy3hnBDm5l1pObCplfArMXExOQc-uTXJbm_FK0mbQJb69P4bT2xriPW4zh-JY0lhlAFfkiD0vVht3wGKK8Y5-dESEDryrUkFYJ8K/s1600-h/March+2010+012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450543027022896226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4JkapGfY0G1uLacO8iUO0fWsirtdIlZeFTFXkotGdy3hnBDm5l1pObCplfArMXExOQc-uTXJbm_FK0mbQJb69P4bT2xriPW4zh-JY0lhlAFfkiD0vVht3wGKK8Y5-dESEDryrUkFYJ8K/s400/March+2010+012.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Once again I am reminded...it's the little things,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">like a green bath </span><span style="font-family:arial;">on St Patty's Day, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">that bring joy to our lives.</span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-33620171906331970882010-03-03T18:50:00.000-08:002010-03-03T18:51:45.361-08:00When they say that looking for a job IS a full time job...<span style="font-family:arial;">...they are not kidding.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">That is all.</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-69067398800516946312010-03-01T23:32:00.000-08:002010-03-23T23:36:41.687-07:00Happy Birthday to Daddy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqx5Fm209nuyzI7IpauPhFXfSegM97ePIM4o3_aRwwg5BBUND4f1-_TJVBnduhZb8AT8oMmoqApCnKRbB20DNxZvrRV0zx6PBV2zMtW3dWjLkDKBtR1IlJKyzx93wIBvruNooGaahuWw7G/s1600/Tahoe+2010+pics+051.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452084697870465426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqx5Fm209nuyzI7IpauPhFXfSegM97ePIM4o3_aRwwg5BBUND4f1-_TJVBnduhZb8AT8oMmoqApCnKRbB20DNxZvrRV0zx6PBV2zMtW3dWjLkDKBtR1IlJKyzx93wIBvruNooGaahuWw7G/s400/Tahoe+2010+pics+051.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Happy Birthday Daddy!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br />We all hope you enjoyed our new tradition of spending your birthday in your favorite place in the world...the snow. We love you very much! </span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-10214048889248060982010-02-22T23:17:00.000-08:002010-02-28T21:52:05.152-08:00Lion<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjMrxkgxx8xpV7uJ-OeGNXxXIkaNB2l3KDpbZs-VTMjbsPF6AMmJAPAaN1G9nty7tL47gPOGNTr8XKjHXVy7KshULPlu-lyYvX9eURyabx-4-RPU5lKUSHfj9XO6FITsR-kVqKnIk9LWU/s1600-h/lion.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441337768513370450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 387px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjMrxkgxx8xpV7uJ-OeGNXxXIkaNB2l3KDpbZs-VTMjbsPF6AMmJAPAaN1G9nty7tL47gPOGNTr8XKjHXVy7KshULPlu-lyYvX9eURyabx-4-RPU5lKUSHfj9XO6FITsR-kVqKnIk9LWU/s400/lion.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">This post is dedicated to my friend, <a href="http://butwhymommy.blogspot.com/">Renee</a>. We met in person this past summer at <a href="http://ileftmyheartatpreschool.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-special-40-year-old.html">BlogHer</a>, although we already "knew" each other through our blogs. She is one of the amazing women that I had the opportunity to get to know more during those few wonderful days in Chicago last summer. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"><br />Another one of those amazing women is <a href="http://issascrazyworld.com/">Issa</a>. Issa recently put together an Internet baby shower for Renee, who is awaiting the arrival of her son, Lion. Lion is not inside of her belly, waiting to come out. Lion is not in the NICU, waiting to be strong enough to come home. Lion is not even in the same time zone as his waiting mother. Lion is 7,000 miles away. He and Renee are both waiting for another land to tell them it's time for them to finally be together. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:Arial;"><div><br />But there is another place that Lion resides, and has before he was even born... in the heart of Renee. </div><div></div><div><br />Stay brave Renee, your wait will soon be over.</div><div></span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-73212448558341311162010-02-07T22:17:00.000-08:002010-02-08T09:30:03.174-08:00Best performance EVER<span style="font-family:arial;">If you missed Pink's performance at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Grammys</span>, you must check it out <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3stsDXki__U">here</a>.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435755043357123090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 322px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTCPshdClasfVllbiKYaBR9-vtY6T8Nmac2F48Ml6NXHH2301C_bgxHUzjOG7UPxW8Zcuco1ubItrWe9_q-m9LzkGi0SfqI1Z3ir1y6FZ22CTvnwe47j88apwOCAiljXS197gWDK1sk2-/s400/pink.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">"Glitter" is one of my favorite Pink songs, but you don't have to be a fan to appreciate this amazing performance. Hope you enjoy it!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">What's that? The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Grammys</span> was like forever ago, and I'm supposed to be blogging about Superbowl commercials now you say? Eh. I don't think people are coming here to keep up on current events. So there.</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-36882515797857290412010-02-03T23:07:00.001-08:002010-02-04T09:05:38.803-08:00Leading with my heart<span style="font-family:arial;">In my effort to do a little self healing, I've been doing some intense yoga sessions the past few days. I've only been practicing yoga the past six months or so, but I swear it's what got me through that last few tough months at work.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Aside from the obvious physical benefits, I've gotten so much out of yoga spiritually. One theme that seems to run through a lot of my classes as we're going through different poses, is the idea of leading with your heart, instead of your head. Leading with your heart opens up your body and your mind. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">In tonight's class, I was working on getting into a full wheel back bend pose for the first time. I was following the direction of the instructor, but I could not even get on top of my head, much less push my arms up into the bend. I really didn't believe I could do this pose. I just wasn't ready, it was too soon for me. But in tonight's small private session, the instructor kept working with us and having us try again and again. Each time, tweaking just a little, and getting just a little further into the pose. Then she assisted each of us, holding and lifting us up, so we could feel what it was like to be there. And again, she had us try on our own. Until finally, I actually got my head off the ground and lifted myself into the pose. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Leading with my heart, in that moment, I knew that yes - everything will be alright.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Have I cried yet? No. But it will come. In it's time, and most likely it will take me by surprise. And again, with a few adjustments and some assistance from friends, I'll know that everything will be alright.</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-64480300760835204422010-02-02T22:36:00.000-08:002010-02-03T09:44:06.541-08:00If the darkest hour comes before the light,<span style="font-family:arial;">where is the light?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Driving into the city for my first appointment with my career counselor today, I felt like I was driving to my own funeral. Not because I'm afraid that I won't get a job. Because I'm afraid that I will. I no longer have the gift of time that was bestowed upon me when I was laid off. Time to rest. Time to organize. Time with my kids. Time to discover what I want to do, and time to find the job that best fits my life.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I was eleven when my Father died. I didn't cry at his funeral. I remember feeling like I needed to hold up everyone else around me who was falling apart. I remember feeling like I needed to take care of my Mom and my sister now. I remember feeling very rational about the whole thing. I remember the pastor asking me if I knew where my Father was, and thinking to myself "What are you, crazy? He's right over there in that coffin.", although I don't remember using those exact words. I also don't remember feeling the need to cry. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I have a very hard time letting myself be completely vulnerable. Even when I lean on friends, I always feel like I need to be sure that they know I am ok. Even though I've never felt burdened by being there for someone, I never want to be a burden to anyone. I've always felt that simply who I am, may be overwhelming to most people. I am the type of person who will tell you my life story within five minutes of meeting you, but I hold part of myself inside. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;">I could count on one hand, the number of people in my lifetime that have seen that part of me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Just for a moment, I want to not be strong. I want to not ensure everyone else around me is ok. Just for a moment, I want to be held. I need to cry.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br />Storm, by Lifehouse<br /><br />how long have I<br />been in this storm<br />so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form<br />water's getting harder to tread<br />with these waves crashing over my head<br /><br />if I could just see you<br />everything will be alright<br />if I'd see you<br />the storminess will turn to light<br /><br />and I will walk on water<br />and you will catch me if I fall<br />and I will get lost into your eyes<br />and everything will be alright<br />and everything will be alright<br /><br />I know you didn't bring me out here to drown<br />so why am I 10 feet under and upside down<br />barely surviving has become my purpose<br />cause I'm so used to living underneath the surface<br /><br />if I could just see you<br />everything will be alright<br />if I see you<br />the storminess will turn to light<br /><br />and I will walk on water<br />and you will catch me if I fall<br />and I will get lost into your eyes<br />and everything will be alright<br /><br />and I will walk on water<br />you will catch me if I fall<br />and I will get lost into your eyes<br />and everything will be alright<br />I know everything is alright<br />everything's alrightKarihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-32941356183802878112010-01-29T09:13:00.000-08:002010-01-29T09:16:06.514-08:00Happy Birthday to my sister<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hQFgnuhMfLuyP70_esvMjloT34BOhumAYTIpNPUR8J6VHhPSgKDThUQ024PqB1xF7gUlB90fHPFOMBE3_Y0RmeWi8oqfk0Bq0mPt4yJpeD3kpRv6iU5N9pSOsD-NXFm4kewtlkWQXL8-/s1600-h/scan0054.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432211451946028258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 378px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hQFgnuhMfLuyP70_esvMjloT34BOhumAYTIpNPUR8J6VHhPSgKDThUQ024PqB1xF7gUlB90fHPFOMBE3_Y0RmeWi8oqfk0Bq0mPt4yJpeD3kpRv6iU5N9pSOsD-NXFm4kewtlkWQXL8-/s400/scan0054.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Happy Birthday <a href="http://www.thenorwindians.blogspot.com/">little sis</a>!!!</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-31795640782188629132010-01-21T22:25:00.000-08:002010-01-22T15:47:49.717-08:00The bird lives<span style="font-family:arial;">It's been almost two weeks now, and no dead bird smell in my car. That little tiny bird somehow found it's way out.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">As for me... the transition from full time working Mom to full time stay at home Mom has not been easy, but it's been one of the happiest times of my life. I had all these grand plans - lists of projects, many friends to visit and numerous draft blog posts to complete now that I had <em>all this time</em> since I wasn't working. Go ahead fellow SAHM's...laugh it up. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My life has been filled with transporting kids, helping in the classroom, after-school activities, helping with homework, cleaning the house, cooking, yoga (yes, I did manage to find some time for myself!) and volunteering. My life was exhausting before I was laid off, but these days I'm usually so physically exhausted by the end of the day, I literally collapse into bed. Still, I've been loving every minute of it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I've slowly been thinking about what I want to do next, how long we can hold out before I look for another job and whether we can get by with me working part time instead of full time. We've even been seriously considering my husband pursuing an assignment at his company that would involve all of us moving to Spain for a couple of years!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">And then...our life changed again. My husband's company went through a reorganization, and he was laid off. Unlike my lay-off, that I saw coming a mile away, his was completely unexpected for us. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">In a matter of three months, we went from being a two income family, to a no income family. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;">This is not exactly how I envisioned 2010 playing out for us. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">After my husband told me, he said "It's ok, you can cry now". But I didn't. Maybe partly because I was still in shock. Maybe partly because I immediately went into survival mode - thinking about and planning how we are going to get through this. Maybe partly because I started thinking about that bird.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I was 99.9% sure that there was no possible way that bird got out and I was certain that it had died somewhere in my car. But it didn't. It found a way out.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Now I think I know what 2010 is about. It's about hope. It's about remembering that even when it seems like there is no way out, there is. You just have to look hard enough. And believe you will find it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"><em>This post is dedicated to </em><a href="http://issascrazyworld.com/"><em>Issa</em></a><em>.</em></span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-8011548111115902852010-01-11T21:54:00.000-08:002010-01-11T22:20:04.637-08:00There may or may not be a dead bird in my car<span style="font-family:Arial;">When I come home with the kids, I usually need to make more than one trip to unload everything. The other day, I left my car door open in between trips to unload. When I came out, I discovered a little bird had flown into my car. Instead of opening more doors and letting the poor thing out of my car, I immediately locked him in and ran to get the kids so they could see it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">That's your first instinct, right? Not free the little flying animal inside my car before it poops all over my seats. No. Trap it inside for awhile longer. Because that's a good idea. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">When we came back out to the car...no bird. Anywhere in the car. And I mean anywhere. I got out a flashlight, and searched. And searched. And searched. WTF happened to that bird?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I'm 99% sure it did not fly out before I shut the door. I'm just as sure it didn't fly out when we opened the door. Either it found some other way out of my car, or it flew up into the dashboard or something, and died.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">How long does it take for a dead bird to start smelling...?</span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-77786176229003999622010-01-01T21:32:00.000-08:002010-01-01T21:41:54.619-08:00Resolved<span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>soak in every moment</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;">write more</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>live simply </strong>this is my favorite because it works backwards too... simply live. 'nuff said.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422013034248362626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjYGiwgsr2zQSyTz5s9PFRnN9v1tH8XVThMDpBsUYTGpVeJjb7cON1FWJvoimlFw35VX_0iIQ7-eqMwpiUZVflPyIQ-yUBTHULbHEakAjPP8O3cgrGucj5dDwdEFZ7Cg5MxofTOlRlsCr/s400/ny+eve.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></strong>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-60804393548767623792009-12-21T20:32:00.000-08:002009-12-21T21:24:24.392-08:00Santa came early this year... AKA, we caved<span style="font-family:arial;">Seesa has wanted a dog since... well, pretty much from the time she even knew what a dog was. Every time we see someone with a dog, both of my girls immediately have to go over and say hi and love on the dog. They both always tells the dog owner, "we're going to get a dog someday<em>". Someday</em> being the key word. Of course to them, someday is in a few days. To us, someday is in a few years.<span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">When I lost my job last month, a colleague of mine made an offhanded comment at a dinner we were at together. She told me to "resist the urge to get a dog". Which gave me an idea... now that I'm a stay-at-home Mom for a bit, maybe it<strong> </strong><em>is</em> a good time to get a dog.<span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Meet Checkers.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417925202994149650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmTYVQLBjwbTTBy8p5VxQBd0LtZMOf7ExLhATmmVaW0gWENLxnN42PhdSxTM4PGZgfYZ57eXV71hSLBzLew-DKiOID-gmK4OJpBUQx1J8hHCdBSz1lBKRDJLaIp7_NzkZ-zoJ6SLLGIcr/s400/Dec+2009+050.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417925211738825282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nQEocesqICS42uG9WL-BSvFTKqmWJFcgAHJsbWYO4LhlAb2LP8MHKqRCENNsAT8bpnhiJkzdzNb5fec-eW_9uDg5ykjxLfRoW5jt2-Tgd4EjE2ridDK3qQdsWe8kbqfaFY_uVmSSLKpS/s400/santa+2009+009.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">He's a two year old Border Collie / Australian Shepard mix and a total sweetheart. We rescued him, I mean Santa brought him down from the North Pole this past weekend.<span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">The girls are over the moon...</span><br /><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span></span>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8218576742064920536.post-36025315035848218252009-12-18T23:30:00.000-08:002009-12-18T23:51:55.249-08:00A tall order<span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZRaUG53oEXWTpNQCd5HVJ-RTOYIrLLV8XL17cqSK43J0uoB0a6bzsGZNARS5Bdlkyg1YVQKxu8W03QB9U41Cz1WFVNmaDjDTxQeN16T-AJcLq2B6z-q8_7lieIj6sQzWmZbgrzoOeQl7/s1600-h/Santa+Dec+2009+032.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416851143319113666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZRaUG53oEXWTpNQCd5HVJ-RTOYIrLLV8XL17cqSK43J0uoB0a6bzsGZNARS5Bdlkyg1YVQKxu8W03QB9U41Cz1WFVNmaDjDTxQeN16T-AJcLq2B6z-q8_7lieIj6sQzWmZbgrzoOeQl7/s400/Santa+Dec+2009+032.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">On their Christmas lists this year... </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Seesa wants a dog movie, the game of Sorry, dog carrier and books (preferably dog related) - notice a theme...? Not sure how much longer we can hold out without getting an <em>actual</em> dog. At the end of her letter to Santa, she wrote "please bring everything and a surprise". In the most loving way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Milly wants snow, Santa, a clown and a town. Oh. Is that all? I have to say I'm glad she's already aiming high in life. Keep it up girl, keep it up! </span></div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416851153879497378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUvNxZSocq6irm_LQrYuzdukOrjq-DT6RvrkIMKcEQ-IzmWDs04iTuzfB35tIsGdPaTor2GpazP8DIWGDujE6yeI4zFjGTuWsKryc-BeZntKRJ-HYa1QersIARAcj7RNhbMiNmYlO1LRA/s400/Santa+Dec+2009+038.JPG" border="0" /></span></p>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12654311489965854867noreply@blogger.com6