tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773908773271259052024-03-13T23:24:53.222-06:00Have a Daisy Day!Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.comBlogger215125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-92046137210257440402013-07-23T13:13:00.002-06:002013-07-23T13:15:56.889-06:00Britax giveaway!Great Britax Frontier 90 giveaway over at <a href="http://www.modparent.com/">http://www.modparent.com</a>! You can't go wrong with installation on these puppies. I want one so bad - tell them I sent you!<br />
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<a href="http://www.modparent.com/blog/britax-frontier-90-booster-seat-giveaway">http://www.modparent.com/blog/britax-frontier-90-booster-seat-giveaway</a>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-29932270493450499372012-10-11T13:05:00.000-06:002012-10-11T13:11:26.641-06:00Trying to be like Jesus<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Grayson participated in his first Primary program the end of September and did an incredible job. He not only learned his part, he memorized a lot of the other Sunbeams' parts as well. He still recites them to me occasionally. It's very endearing.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, today Grayson was climbing the shelves in the pantry to get into the gum and he accidentally knocked a sealed jar of salsa to the floor, waking the baby and leaving me a giant mess to clean up. I put him in time-out for climbing the shelves while I cleaned up. I then proceeded to gather all the candy and gum from the top shelf to throw away because he's been climbing up those shelves for years and one day he's going to do some serious damage. Apparently that made him pretty angry, so he shut the pantry door and turned off the light, blockading the door so I could not get out. I am obviously stronger than he is (for now) so I shoved open the door and promptly spanked him. I put him back in time-out and fumed about what a snot he is while we both cooled off.</span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">I went in to his room and we talked about why he got spanked. We talked about how he felt when I said I was going to throw away his candy without asking and about how I felt when he locked me in the pantry. We both agreed that it would be better for us to only do nice things to each other from now on. I finished by apologizing for losing my cool and asked him if he'd forgive me for spanking him. He thought for a moment then said, "Yes, Mom, I forgive you." </span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I thanked him for forgiving me and asked him if I could have a hug. We hugged tightly for about two seconds when he pulled away and exclaimed, "Mom! It's just like Dillon's part!" I looked confused so he kept talking excitedly: "My part is 'He showed us the way to be baptized.' Dillon's part is 'He forgave who hurt him.' You hurt me, and I forgave you, so I am just like Jesus!"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;">And he really is. He's a great example of forgiving others instead of holding a grudge, being helpful and kind to everyone, and trying to obey. He is such a loving little man and I am grateful for his sweet example. I love you Grayson!</span></span>
Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-8950495091721601552012-07-01T19:42:00.001-06:002012-07-01T19:52:28.385-06:00Facebook killed my blog.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">No, we didn't die. Or move. Or fall off the face of the earth. I am done with school and am now a non-working licensed dental hygienist. Josh is still with AGFA. Two boys boss me around all day long and I generally love it, but definitely have my fair share of 'those days'. Grayson is wicked smart, just finished his first year of preschool, and broke his first limb (right tibia) on May 9. He's 110% brilliant, bouncy, and boy and gives me a run for my money every. single. day. It's exhausting being his mother but oh, so fun as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I don't want Trevin growing up as the 'second child' even though he is. There have been fewer pictures and videos taken of his first six months of life than of Grayson's first six, and obviously far fewer blog entries. I want to fix that. Today is July 1, 2012 and he's nearly seven months old. He's a very busy, very happy, very sweet baby. He's crawling all over the house and crawled off my bed for the first time this morning (totally not my fault - I was sleeping!). We just returned from his first Lake Powell trip and he was a champ with the heat, the dirt, and the noise. He is so aware and focused on people and things, especially food, and I give him a lot more leeway than I ever did Grayson at this age. He will literally catapult himself out of my arms to get to whatever it is that caught his attention. He's a tough one to contain. Going to be an interesting couple of toddler years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My goal is to publish one post per week to this blog. I want to share our pictures, </span><span style="font-size: small;">Trevin's milestones, </span><span style="font-size: small;">the funny things Grayson says on a near-hourly basis. I need Trevin to see he means as much to me as Grayson does. So my plan is to spend 30 minutes per day organizing the bazillion pictures and videos lying around on four different hard drives and turn them in to publishable tidbits about our lives that my children will cherish one day. I might even play a little catch-up and post some pics to fill in the gaps from the last two years as well. Wish me luck! </span></div>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-63425561259630024282010-12-11T09:48:00.005-07:002010-12-12T17:26:23.053-07:00Gray's life<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Working out - December 3, 2010<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549455446134760370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOgU3O4I7I/AAAAAAAABjc/YWh7cFXyWa4/s400/DSC_3265.JPG" border="0" />I've been missing my boys this week - far too much studying and not enough playing 'round these parts. I feel like my stress level has been way above normal since I got my appendix out. Couple it with the normal stresses of finals and the holidays, and I've been no fun to be around. I'm tired. My body aches. I can't shake this head cold. And there's no time to bake. It's horrible.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">But I needed to take a sec to post about my sweet Grayson. He will drive me absolutely crazy one moment and the very next he is melting my heart. He is so dang opinionated! He will stumble out of bed in the morning and if he's in a good mood he says, "It's sunny time!" even if it's still dark outside. But if he's grumpy, he says, "It's NOT sunny time Mom!" in a very grumpy voice. If he likes something I say, he takes credit for it, but if he doesn't like it, he'll argue it until I'm chasing him around the house and we're both laughing. If I tell him it's time for a bath and he doesn't want to take one, he'll say, "I told you Mom, it's NOT time for a bath." But if he wants to take one, he says, "I told you Mom, it's time for a bath." It's so freaking adorable and completely maddening at the same time.<br /><br />When I'm talking to someone and Grayson needs to tell me something he will yell, "Mom, I need talk to you!" even if it's Josh that has my attention. It's cute now, but we're definitely going to have to work on waiting to speak to Mom when she's already engaged in conversation. When I see his poop face, I ask him if he wants to run to the potty so he can get a sticker for his potty chart to earn a car. He yells at me to go away, but when he's finished, he's all smiles and asks me if he can go potty. He'll sit on the toilet for a minute then announce, "I finished!" and there will be nothing in the toilet bowl. I'm not sure he'll ever potty train, and he's almost three years old.<br /><br />Grayson LOVES candy, especially 'gum candy' which is what he calls chewy candy (taffy, tootsie rolls) versus 'candy' which is hard candy (candy canes, suckers, Nerds). I think he's actually pretty clever for coming up with that. He loves to do happy/sad faces and will ask you to be one or the other hundreds of times in a row. When he wants to 'get you' he wil step back, get down like a football blocker and come full-speed toward you. I actually get kind-of scared that he's going to hurt me! He loves to be chased/scared/thrown around/etc. The greatest latest thing, though, are his prayers. Grayson likes to say his prayers by himself now, without any help, and he does a really good job. He always thanks Heavenly Father for each one of us, for the food (even if we're not sitting down to eat), for our home, and for his footballs and his basketballs. Every once in a while he'll thank God for me twice! He's 100% boy and I love every last little thing about him.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Picture with Lightning McQueen - October 9, 2010<br /></span></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOizGFAq6I/AAAAAAAABj8/vWgxYI607Dg/s1600/DSC_3147.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549458164539239330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOizGFAq6I/AAAAAAAABj8/vWgxYI607Dg/s400/DSC_3147.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"> Flashlight nap - October 15, 2010<br /></span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOiyhM0V7I/AAAAAAAABj0/0W0WsVO4j4Q/s1600/DSC_3159.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549458154639873970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOiyhM0V7I/AAAAAAAABj0/0W0WsVO4j4Q/s400/DSC_3159.JPG" border="0" /></span></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Remember </span><a href="http://daisypaige.blogspot.com/2010/10/one-of-those-days.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">this</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">? - October 17, 2010</span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOh91RbcVI/AAAAAAAABjk/SRk-onFlMuo/s1600/DSC_3161.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549457249494856018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOh91RbcVI/AAAAAAAABjk/SRk-onFlMuo/s400/DSC_3161.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549457265473444802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOh-wzBW8I/AAAAAAAABjs/VLv4u6TbCMs/s400/DSC_3163.JPG" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Carving pumpkins - October 22, 2010</span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549466633734181826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TQOqgESb08I/AAAAAAAABkM/W6iZwhcgBJI/s400/DSC_3201.JPG" border="0" /></span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-10640606594984277322010-10-29T08:39:00.002-06:002010-10-29T08:43:29.050-06:00DH is my world<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I hate that my life revolves around dental hygiene. Grayson fell down at day care last Thursday (eight days ago) and split his chin open on the window well cover. I was stuck in class and got the message an hour later during my lunch. I had ridden the bus down that day and still had three hours of clinic to go, so I called Josh to take him to Instacare. Once again, very lucky Josh now works from home, but I was secretly jealous of him and kinda sad about the whole situation.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I know it's not practical, but I couldn't help but feel like the mom is supposed to be the one taking her kids to the dentist and the ER and things like that. I know it's ridiculous to not be appreciative that not only is my husband able to do it, he's willing, because a lot of people may not get that, but I still felt cheated and useless in a way. However, I recognized the time constraints for me to get there in a timely manner, the lack of true emergency (he did this last Thanksgiving), and the importance of me being in clinic, so I stayed at school and tried not to think about it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Anyway, what do I do when all is said and done? I post about Gray's accident on my Perio blog for school and not even my own personal blog! Have I gone crazy? Grandmas need to find out about these accidents online! So here I give you Grayson's perio post from last week:</span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533477099210278242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TMrcGqcwBWI/AAAAAAAABiE/SdgZl42hkiQ/s320/DSC_3175.JPG" border="0" /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">This morning I told Grayson I was going to come into the office and do my perio blog. He said, "Mom, I need do my perio blog too." except of course he said perio blog really cute and toddler-like. So I thought, yeah, I'll post a pic of my sweet boy's poor mouth. He sat on my lap and watched old Mickey Mouse cartoons on YouTube in one window while I did my post and now that I'm done with it, I told him it's his turn. Of course now he's lost interest, but I still want to do it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Grayson in the last 1.5 hours: I go Amy's house today? It not nighttime, Mom. I not poopy (he lied). Where Christie car? What this? I make pancakes in fridge (he puts his blocks in small stacks in the fridge and says they're pancakes). That not Cookie, that Elmo! Where Daddy go? -Daddy's working downstairs, honey.- I go work on the 'puter downstairs too (and he marches off all business-like until Josh drags him back upstairs and I get the evil eye for letting him go down there in the first place, heh heh). What this? You're sad, Mom; no, you're happy! I just kidding, Mom. I see the letter O! I need my shoes. Where my frog go? I take a picture for those kids. What this?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">It's beyond awesome being a parent, and I totally can't blame Ashley for wanting one. But alla that love just means more heartbreak when you see six stitches in your little boy's chin, a fat lip with a mangled hole in it, and even worse, blood filled tissue underneath his tongue. Definitely something I'd chart on the IO/EO exam.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533477114042629474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TMrcHhtDvWI/AAAAAAAABiU/xdIomUnjEBQ/s320/DSC_3189.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533477743099141218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TMrcsJH0XGI/AAAAAAAABic/0d0gLV57rz4/s320/DSC_3188.JPG" border="0" /></span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-22272409679872043712010-10-14T09:57:00.001-06:002010-10-14T10:22:46.795-06:00Poor Josh<span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Josh works hard - too hard, actually - and I often put him in a pickle about it. Last weekend when he wasn't working for AGFA, he was working on his sister's house, which she's trying to renovate for renters. He even took Thursday off work to help her. And that's where it gets tricky.<br /><br />You see, I didn't have a single test to study for all last weekend - yay! But even though I was around more, my husband was not. In fact, I saw less of him than I normally would. I was pretty pissed by the time Sunday rolled around, and I finally told him so. The hard part is I admire how hard he works and how giving he is to others (both extremely attractive qualities to me), but if we're both available on a Friday night, why not spring for a sitter and go out for a change?<br /><br />Oh right, the money. The pickle.<br /><br />We spent the majority of our savings on the down-payment for our house. The rest of it has slowly been going to my schooling. We're still waiting for the $8k incentive for first-time home buyers, which we'd expected to have before I paid this semester's tuition. Without that cushion, things have started feeling a little tight, and I found out last week that not only will I need to come up with the $4,800 for next semester's tuition by January, I'll also need to pay for my boards exams at the same time - another $2,000. Throw in books and daycare for the month and we're easily out $7,500 in January. </span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Josh asked if I could hear the sound effects of a toilet flushing in the distance when I told him. </span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >No wonder he feels the pressure to work so hard to keep his job.</span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span>So to my husband, who presently exists in an impossible situation, and will do so until this program is over</span></span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >: thanks babe. You're one in a million. Let's get a Redbox and eat stir-fry for dinner tonight.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-4356731705623026352010-10-04T20:55:00.002-06:002010-10-04T21:05:34.552-06:00That yucky<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Just gotta put this down while I'm thinking of it...</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Gray always wants to try condiments and cooking ingredients. Josh and I have pretty much made it the norm that he can try a small amount of anything he asks for. This includes very obviously disgusting stuff. He's tried unsweetened cocoa powder, red pepper flakes, plain mustard (which he actually likes and will lick directly off the plate), table salt, cooking vanilla, tabasco sauce, and salsa (another like of his).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Anyway, we always have a glass of milk and/or water handy because he squinches his face up real tight and will flail his arms about like he's on the brink of flying once the offending taste touches his tongue. Once he downs 3-4 ounces of this liquid medication, he very seriously and solemly will declare, "That yucky" and so far hasn't asked for that particular item again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Pretty sweet way of letting him learn on his own, right?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">So tonight he asked me for some juice but I said no, it's time to get ready for bed. So he opened up the fridge and brought the lemon juice bottle to me, insisting that he have juice before we brush his teeth. I told him he wouldn't like it - it's very sour Grayson - but he told me, "I do like it, Mom."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Okay, whatever you say dearie.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Lucky for him, I pulled out a teaspoon instead of a glass and poured him a bit. I asked, "Are you sure you want to try this?" and he said yes, reaching for the spoon himself. I told him to open up and I poured it on his tongue.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Instant reaction, classic response. As he reached for his water, I asked him, "That was yucky wasn't it, honey?" After guzzling for a few seconds, he looked me square in the eye and said, "No Mommy. That not yucky. That yummy." then started guzzling again. Wanting to call his bluff, I asked him if he wanted some more since it tasted so yummy. He responded with, "No Mommy. I save for later."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Smart boy.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-33614493118694752342010-10-01T16:16:00.003-06:002010-10-01T16:17:13.452-06:00One of those days<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Oh my.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Grayson, sweetie, I love you to pieces. And if I wasn't so tired today from the adventure we had during the night when the rest of the world was sleeping, I might be angry or frustrated with you right now. Maybe you planned it this way; knowing I'd be dragging all day could give you the leg up you've had all morning. Regardless, I couldn't let today finish without letting you know what a handful you've been thus far. And it's only 2pm.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Remember last night around 2:45am when you woke up so sad? And you cried and cried and didn't want to be consoled and told me to go away and then cried for me to come back over and over and over again? I remember. I remember because I was not sleeping. Back and forth between our rooms for nearly an hour. And within 20 minutes of finally falling back asleep you were crying again, so I brought you into bed with me and Daddy. Remember how you insisted on sleeping with your train and I pulled that stupid thing out from underneath me at least three or four times during (the rest of the) night? Yeah, I wouldn't call that a stellar night's sleep.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">And then remember this morning during breakfast when you purposefully threw your cereal all over the floor, including the milk? I didn't mind so much because I hadn't cleaned the floors yet. But then you got out your crackers and started shaking the open container upside down to get out every. last. one. after I had just swept. Fortunately the vacuum was still out, so I just sucked up all those zillions of crumbs so I could mop. But then remember when you purposefully followed me around the kitchen while I did mop, walking on the clean, wet areas right after I asked you not to so you wouldn't slip and fall but then you did slip and fall anyway? That was so sad.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">And then remember when I was in the shower and I saw you get into the top drawer and pull out the floss and you started pulling it out in big long strands and I begged you to stop and please put it back because it's my favorite kind of floss and Glide can be kinda expensive but instead you ran out of the room and I didn't see you or the floss again until after I was getting dressed and you came back into the room and had unraveled the entire container and were wrapping it around things like a spider's web so I had to untangle it all and then throw it away? Thank goodness I got a 6-pack last time Costco had it on coupon.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">And remember earlier when you were so sweet and insistent on helping me vacuum, and you were trying to put the wand back inside the vacuum even though I had it out so I could use the hose to vacuum the stairs and you put that dent in the wall on accident? Don't worry, it's not a very big dent. I'll ask Daddy to fix it sometime.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">And then remember when you came into the office while I was doing my online perio assignment and you smelled so strongly of my perfume, and after investigating I had to give you an 'uh-oh' for using the bathroom drawer handles as a ladder, so I sent you to your room while I went to clean up everything only to come back out and find you in YOUR bathroom and you had emptied every drawer and were in the process of pulling out towels and opening the extra bar soaps we had stashed under the sink for guests? At least that was a little easier to clean up than the mess in my bathroom.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">But then remember when I was putting away all the stuff from my Primary meeting this morning and I saw you come out of my room (note to self - get a freaking lock for the bedroom door already) with my eyelash curler but I didn't notice any other makeup out of place, so I didn't think anything of it until you asked for a popsicle and I saw all the drawing you had done on your arm, shorts, both legs, and even the bottom of your foot and I asked you to show me where you got it and it was my brown eyeliner and then you showed me the tube of lipstick you'd also taken but fortunately hadn't had the time to use yet? That lipstick sure was a close call. I sure hope the eyeliner comes out of your shorts.</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523200791571838130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TKZZ21TLtLI/AAAAAAAABgs/d5OjwD3UHiQ/s400/Grayeyeliner.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">That's pretty much when I decided to write this blog post so I toted you downstairs to get the camera from Daddy so we could take a picture and </span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">in the bit of time I've been writing this post you've pulled a variety of items out of the diaper bag and my backpack. I really don't mind that at all, though. It was fun 'talking' on the phone with you, and throwing that orange ball up and down the stairs couldn't have been more entertaining. But man, could you let me build a decently tall tower just once before kicking it over?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">But honestly, the best part about this day is now, two hours later, you're nearly lifeless at my feet, crushing that orange ball against my leg as you hold out against the sleepiness that's trying to consume you. I'd love for you to fall asleep because then I could too, and we could spend a couple hours outside later when it's a bit cooler and we won't be crabby.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Yeah, I think I'll go rock you to sleep now if you'll let me. But I have a special request: please keep days like today at a minimum.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-27258461855182973262010-09-23T21:52:00.000-06:002010-09-23T21:53:25.735-06:00I not sad, I happy!<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">For one of my classes, we're required to write a weekly blog post about experiences we had in clinic during that week. Luckily for me, it gets me into a reflective mood and I actually post a thing or two on this blog as well. Yay for mandatory assignments that benefit my posterity as well!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">The bad news is it always leaves me thinking of Grayson and the opportunity cost of me being in this program. I'm not having the best experiences so far this semester and I've noticed it's caused my emotions to run a bit high these last couple of weeks. Josh has been nothing short of amazing this semester so far, and I repaid him with a snippy attitude and short fuse when I got home from school today. Bad wife.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I kissed Grayson tonight as we put him to bed and told him I love him. He responded with, "I love you too." Then he interlaced his fingers in mine and told me, "I love your hand." So innocent, so adorable, so plain and simple, so delightful. I started tearing up. He saw my tears and put his arms around my neck, asking, "You so sad?" His bottom lip began to quiver a bit and I could see how sad he was at the thought of me being sad, and then I really did start to cry. I literally sobbed for about 20 seconds, wrapped in the arms of my tender two-year-old. He held me so tightly, so concerned about me. "Mommy, you crying?" "Why you so sad, Mom?" I honestly didn't want him to let go.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Somehow I was able to compose myself and as I pulled away from him, he worriedly looked into my eyes. I told him I wasn't sad anymore. He asked, "You happy?" because he's smart enough to know that either you're sad or you're happy, period.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">So yes, Grayson. I'm happy. You make me happy. I'm happy because you are sweet and silly and brave to the point of stupidity. I'm happy because you're ridiculously smart and healthy. I'm happy because you're so good about eating your dinner and picking up your toys. You have the best facial expressions, and you said "See ya later, sucka" so perfectly to Daddy earlier tonight. I love the way you do monkey face and always know if the stoplight means stop or go. I'm happy because you know I'm Mommy, and Grandma is Grandma, and you correct me when I call her Mom on accident. I'm happy because Miss Amy tells me how nice you are to the other kids and how well you obey her. I'm happy because you're mine and you always will be.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Thanks bud, for making me so happy. And for reminding me why I am.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-43804119820748031952010-09-17T11:22:00.000-06:002010-09-17T11:22:39.688-06:00Get a grip<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm two loads of laundry into the weekend and already feeling behind. It's after 9am Friday morning and there are two more to go (towels last week, sheets this week). I just finished the assignment that's due before noon, but Gray and I are still in our jammies, and the floor is screaming for attention. Scrubbed my shower and toilet last week but not my sink; vacuumed the house but didn't dust. Ran out of milk this morning and I haven't baked for ages. Seems I just can't get it all done anymore.<br /><br />Maybe there just aren't enough hours in the week for my mom-life AND my school-life. Last weekend I spent about 10 hours studying for a test on Monday. I'll do that again this weekend. And the next. And the next after that. And the next after that one too. Between my classes, I will have at least one test every Monday for the next 12 weeks. Throw in a quiz every Tuesday and Thursday, the fact that I'm away from home (and my son) from 7am to 6pm every Monday through Thursday, and I'm borderline tears. Familial responsibilities consume me as soon as I walk in the door - dinner, dishes, playtime, jammies, brush teeth, storytime, prayers, good night. By 9pm (if I'm lucky enough that Grayson has stayed in his bed), I'm ready for bed myself - not up for pre-treating clothing stains, packing lunches and laying out clothes for the next day, or cracking open a textbook for an hour. I just want to fall into an uninterrupted slumber.</span> </span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">But I don't, because I can't. I want to be the best mom and I want to be the best student, so I do stay outside a bit longer than I should when Grayson wants to swing or play on the slide, and I occasionally leave the dishes in the sink until the next evening. And I often stay up until 10:30 or 11pm, studying for my classes the following day. No television, no pleasure reading. But I'm okay with that, because that's what I choose to do. And Josh has gotten so much better at being done working when it's time to be done. He helped make dinner last night, and he occasionally does the dishes. He makes the bed some mornings, helps Gray pick up his toys before bedtime, and picks him up from day care when I have to catch the later bus home. Josh will probably even let me head to the library tomorrow afternoon for <span style="font-family:Verdana;">5-6 uninterrupted hours of studying, even though it means he can't work in the garage or basement. He really is the best husband and father.</span></span></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Already this morning Grayson has asked me to draw him a butterfly, build a tower with him, and sing his frog to sleep. I love being here for him. I love the way his voice inflects up a bit when he says "Mom" right before he asks me for something. I know there's a time and season for every stage of life, and sometimes I'm bummed I chose to intertwine these two very different seasons into the same two years, but I know he knows I love him, and I'm pretty sure he knows he's my number one guy. He's going to help me try out a zucchini brownie recipe this afternoon, after we go grocery shopping together. He's good about helping me fold the laundry, and he still loves to vacuum, so I'm pretty confident I'll get the things done that I need to, even if it takes a bit longer to do them.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">I just needed a minute to get a grip on my responsibilities, my priorities, and how to mesh them together. Breathe in, breathe out. One day at a time. Oh my, I just love that little boy so much. My little boy. No one told me I could manage to love him more every time I see him, but I swear it happens. I look at him and my heart nearly bursts. With joy, with pride, with love. He is so funny, and quirky, and boyish, and tender, and troublesome, and sweet all at once. He truly is the light of my life.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517933672140197890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TJOjcIYVUAI/AAAAAAAABgc/ipFEWjoNqo4/s400/04042010a.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517933662230252498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TJOjbjdni9I/AAAAAAAABgU/bTdr0tUnOYo/s400/DSC_2974.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517932480090702450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TJOiWvplgnI/AAAAAAAABgM/gFYHxlJjM1k/s400/DSC_2992.JPG" border="0" /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-37424801659109615652010-09-10T11:44:00.000-06:002010-09-10T11:46:09.530-06:00A Summer of Firsts<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Now that summer is over, I figure I'd better do a quick recap of all the 'firsts' Gray had before I let any more time or memory slip away. </span><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First donut - April 24, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515313386193969922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpUTakMYwI/AAAAAAAABZk/AAnLDZwOFJ0/s400/04242010b.jpg" border="0" /> </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First buggy 'ride' - May 10, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515329531687607794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpi_NN2HfI/AAAAAAAABdk/RNZ7ZZnoXkY/s400/DSC_2192.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First time passing out in a swing - May 16, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515325086859410338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpe8e8OO6I/AAAAAAAABck/dM1_rJBL6XE/s400/sleepswing.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First time away from just Mommy overnight (sans </span><a href="http://daisypaige.blogspot.com/2008/05/cancun-recap.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Mexico</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">) - </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">May 28-30, 2010</span></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR-Usa0cI/AAAAAAAABY8/l0VccKtf9mg/s1600/bach2.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515310824817349058" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR-Usa0cI/AAAAAAAABY8/l0VccKtf9mg/s200/bach2.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"> </span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpS7wtBq9I/AAAAAAAABZc/tIv-SQTjVg8/s1600/bach4.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515311880308108242" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpS7wtBq9I/AAAAAAAABZc/tIv-SQTjVg8/s200/bach4.jpg" border="0" /></span></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR-jFew5I/AAAAAAAABZE/jyX-vOkAsCQ/s1600/bach3.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515310828680561554" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR-jFew5I/AAAAAAAABZE/jyX-vOkAsCQ/s200/bach3.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR922YvvI/AAAAAAAABY0/qrDvNRVjth0/s1600/bach1.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515310816806092530" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR922YvvI/AAAAAAAABY0/qrDvNRVjth0/s200/bach1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR_5ylsmI/AAAAAAAABZU/wqc8k3z7R-Y/s1600/bach6.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515310851955208802" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 142px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpR_5ylsmI/AAAAAAAABZU/wqc8k3z7R-Y/s200/bach6.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First ice cream cone - May 29, 2010</span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515307899713031154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpPUD1NC_I/AAAAAAAABYs/z_Gv2kwHkf0/s400/05292010c.jpg" border="0" /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First s'mores - May 31, 2010</span><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpgWq1bkrI/AAAAAAAABdE/gBPE9jzxDz0/s1600/firstsmore1.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515326636240376498" style="WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpgWq1bkrI/AAAAAAAABdE/gBPE9jzxDz0/s200/firstsmore1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpgXuEnKaI/AAAAAAAABdU/zbZ2Bs_F_Rs/s1600/firstsmore3.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515326654289226146" style="WIDTH: 176px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpgXuEnKaI/AAAAAAAABdU/zbZ2Bs_F_Rs/s200/firstsmore3.JPG" border="0" /></span></a> </span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpiMFbejMI/AAAAAAAABdc/VYe-hdZQKao/s1600/DSC_2328.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515328653423971522" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpiMFbejMI/AAAAAAAABdc/VYe-hdZQKao/s320/DSC_2328.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First time building a tower without help - June 3, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515325096523137986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpe9C8PA8I/AAAAAAAABcs/ZRt3AIVF8tw/s400/tower2.JPG" border="0" /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First own meal at Lone Star Taqueria - June 21, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515317277736066002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpX17sIW9I/AAAAAAAABaU/HzcvnnjWLDU/s400/06212010a.jpg" border="0" /> First time passing out in Wal-Mart - June 23, 2010</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515314836447665186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpVn1LnnCI/AAAAAAAABZ8/_4YYgQ7px4g/s400/06232010.jpg" border="0" /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First family reunion - June 25, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515325106702449762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpe9o3K_GI/AAAAAAAABc0/QKz-Ba3VmTw/s400/reunion.JPG" border="0" /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First big fireworks show and carnival ride - July 3, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515318980297173458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpZZCOVKdI/AAAAAAAABa0/XvS1VbMlp94/s400/fireworks.JPG" border="0" /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515318973510429522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpZYo8Pq1I/AAAAAAAABas/WeAcTRheGGU/s400/carnie2.jpg" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First movie on the big screen - July 5, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515320186902639234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpafRLfcoI/AAAAAAAABa8/4RTcj1eQ8VE/s400/TS3.JPG" border="0" /> F</span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">irst time stuck climbing the pantry shelves - July 8, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515316174624002610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpW1uRuEjI/AAAAAAAABaE/7V1ceMl49I0/s400/07082010a.jpg" border="0" /> First family hike - July 30, 2010</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515339172923340770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIprwZnkd-I/AAAAAAAABeE/jxiD774P5Z8/s400/DSC_2902.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515341966369282690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpuTAA-2oI/AAAAAAAABeU/ZEeNKqTgCTY/s400/hike1.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515339143060650194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpruqXv-NI/AAAAAAAABd0/MRHPXdx99J8/s400/DSC_2915.JPG" border="0" /></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpdVb59PwI/AAAAAAAABcc/P1iD8YhoY8s/s1600/group1.JPG"></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515325108918532482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpe9xHhuYI/AAAAAAAABc8/iYZO7BXzVmg/s400/group1.JPG" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">First pinata! - August 22, 2010<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515316181880160690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/TIpW2JTuQbI/AAAAAAAABaM/weCrP61Dc2Q/s400/08222010b.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">As you can see, the kid's been busy this summer! Grayson also got his first bloody nose July 12 and learned how to open the outside doors this summer. It only took a few popsicles before he knew how to push his own Otter Pops up from the bottom, and he can eat cherries, plums, apricots, etc., and successfully spit out the pits. In the last month he's learned how to propel himself on a little scooter we got for him, and he denounced naps entirely. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">He also ripped out the bottom of one pair of shorts and I fixed them! This summer was a good one. Can't wait for the next!</span></p></div></div></div></div></div>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-76725571566414476032010-09-01T19:16:00.003-06:002010-09-03T09:31:11.645-06:00Grayisms<p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Some of the latest funnies to come out of the kid's mouth:</span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I not sad, I happy! (when he's in trouble, we tell him "This is so sad" and put him in his room. For the last couple months, as soon as he realizes where we're headed, he cries out, hoping it'll keep him out of his room.)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">You can't reach it. (smiling as he holds something in his hand over his head)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">You big trouble, Mom. (for some reason, Josh is never in big trouble - he's even told me to go to his room and then he's shut the door behind me)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I not in big trouble. (when we catch him in the act)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I working here! (when he wants to keep playing instead of whatever he needs to be doing)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I need popsicle. (he never <em>wants</em> one, he <em>needs</em> it)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Just stop a minute, k Dad? (when they're wrestling or chasing and Gray wants to get a leg up, he pulls this one on Josh)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I going now. Bye! (announcing his departure from the room; he even waves as he goes)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Mom, Mom, Mom, there the ABC's! (he gets so excited when he notices letters on signs and such)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Um, green. (anytime we ask him what color something is)</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Grayson's such a sweet little boy. He's extra big into kisses and hugs right now and will often insist on both when he's leaving, even if it's just to go outside. This morning he kissed me goodbye through the shower door when he left my bathroom. He always makes the kissing sound (mu-wah) when he kisses, and he likes to pull your face toward his using both hands. It's very endearing.<br /><br />He's also very sensitive. Whenever anyone's crying (child or adult, real or fictional) he gets a worried look on his face and will tell me they are 'so sad' seemingly near tears himself. If they're a real person, he usually walks over to give them a hug and tell them he's so sorry. I love it most of the time, but it gets a little embarrassing when he does it to strangers at church or at the store.</span></p>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-51683309553615592222010-08-11T09:21:00.003-06:002010-08-11T09:28:21.499-06:00I'm THAT mother<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I lost Grayson in Kohl's yesterday.<br /><br />We were looking for a new pair of shoes for him and I had unstrapped him from the seat so he could walk around a bit, go up on his tip-toes, and see how they fit. We found a pair we liked (unbeknownst to me they were 25 bucks!) and he sat down to take them off while I started putting shoe boxes back on the shelves. He started walking away from me, down the aisle, and I asked him to come back. He turned back to me for a minute, but then I saw 'the look' and he took off running in the opposite direction.<br /><br />You see, Grayson gets this impish, mischievous look when he wants you to chase him or tickle him or throw him around. If you ignore 'the look' for too long, he'll start pulling on your hand, begging you to "get me, Mom" or "chase me, Dad" or whatever it is he'd have you do to him. It's very endearing, generally. But not this day. Not in Kohl's.<br /><br />I just happened to be sitting cross-legged on the floor while I was sorting out the discarded shoes, so by the time I got up to follow him, he was turning the corner at the end of the aisle. I turned the corner about 15 seconds later, but poof!<br /><br />He was already gone.<br /><br />I quickly strode past all the shoe aisles, scanning up and down. No Grayson.<br /><br />I thought I heard a crash across the main aisle in housewares, so I scanned those aisles as well. No Grayson.<br /><br />I started calling his name as I headed back to shoes, expecting to hear his little voice pipe up, "I right here!" like he does when we're playing at home and I pretend I can't see him. Still no Grayson.<br /><br />I started panicking. He disappeared so quickly, I just knew someone had taken him. He was probably already outside now, headed toward her car. He wouldn't be screaming if she offered him candy when she picked him up. Does she have a car seat for him? What am I going to tell Josh? Am I going to have to do an interview for the news? Will anyone empathize with me, or will I 'get what I deserved'? Will witnesses give their testimonials that the other woman seemed like his mother? She kept him happy, smiling all the way through the store as she carried him out the door without blinking an eye. When he's with me, he screams "Help me, Dad!" while I try to bend his legs and force his feet through the legs holes so I can strap him into the cart. Without fail, when he realizes I'm about to do up the buckle, he looks at me so angry, yet defeated, and cries, "No, Mom, please, no strap!" in one last futile attempt at freedom. We make for quite the show.<br /><br />By this time I had searched textiles and women's bras as well. Still no Grayson. I went back to shoes to see if he had magically reappeared when I suddenly thought to say a prayer. God was kind enough to answer me and it was good news! I immediately knew Grayson hadn't been taken and was just wandering the store. I also knew he wasn't scared and that everything would be all right.<br /><br />I saw a worker in shoes and asked him to radio for help for me to find my son. He directed me to a register to have the woman there call it in. I totally butted in line (sorry lady) and asked her what I was supposed to do if my son was lost in the store. The worker called a 'code yellow' (description: 2-year-old boy with dirty blonde hair and a bad haircut; wearing gray shirt, gray shorts, and white tennis shoes with the tags still on) and instructed me to stay there so they could bring him to me when they found him. Instead, I parked my diaper bag at an empty register and started walking toward the registers on the other side of the store. I must have had the 'my little boy is lost and I don't know whether I'm going to cry or beat him to a pulp' look on my face because a worker walked up to me and said, "He's over here."<br /><br />Grayson was standing in the entry way by the far registers. I don't know how long he had been there, but when he saw me he started laughing and ran into the juniors section. I sighed, a worker darted after him, another said, "Wow, he's fast!" and another customer said, "Oh, it's so hard to see the short ones through all the racks." She smiled at me and told me she'd lost her son once before. I can’t say I felt better, but I did manage to feel less stupid.<br /><br />We eventually made it home. Because Grayson had run through the store wearing the $25 shoes, they came home with us too. I didn’t cry and I didn’t beat Grayson when he was finally back in my arms. I just held him. Tightly.<br /><br />I’m still THAT mother who will wrestle her toddler into the cart seat no matter how loudly he screams. The one who will let people cut in front of her in the checkout when her cart is full and they only have a couple of items. The one who will compliment a store’s management when she has a good experience. The one who will kiss her boy and tell him how much she loves him for as long as he’ll let her.<br /><br />But I’m now also THAT mother who will ask God and others for help, and thank them profusely when it’s given. The one who will be slow to judge other parents for mistakes they may have made, knowing she's made plenty herself. The one to spring for $25 shoes every once in a while because hey, Grayson can really move in those puppies. The one that remembers no matter how crazy he makes me, Grayson is the apple of my eye, and I want nothing more than for him to be safe, healthy, and happy.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-67052187066955430182010-03-26T13:24:00.000-06:002010-03-26T13:32:59.451-06:00I want to know...<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">...why isn't it hip or cool to save up the money to get things done instead of financing every last little wish on your list?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Josh and I want to buy a home, we save 20% down. We want to put me through school, we put that money aside and don't touch it. We want to upgrade our water heater and a/c unit, we save for it now - can't use the school money, it's already been spent. Won't use the salesman's "6 months same as cash" selling tactic - we don't know what's going to happen to us financially in the next six months, so it would be stupid to spend money we haven't yet earned.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">To me, it's simple (and there might be only 2% of the population that actually functions this way), so why does the United States of America, the very country that was founded on freedoms of every kind, choose to spend money it's not yet earned? What has this country been teaching its citizens? Why would our country choose the burden of indebtedness?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Debt does not feel good. I have gone into debt three times in my life - I financed $9k of my car in 2003 after I finished paying off $6k in student loans. I paid as much as I could every month because I hated the feeling of not being in control of my own finances (my 4-year car loan was paid in full after two years had passed). Josh and I now owe a bank about 78% of the purchase price of the home we live in. I hate that feeling, too, but it's pretty hard to save up enough money to purchase a home outright, at least the first time around.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Deficit spending baffles me. Very little of it may be necessary once in a very great while, but at some point in time Big Daddy USA is going to have to man up and realize it can't give everyone everything they want.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Now, as long as Josh and I keep our health, we'll be good to go. Like most others, we're just one debilitating disease away from bankruptcy. I can't believe a country as great as ours can allow its citizens to lose everything and then some because of the cost of treating a disease. It just doesn't make sense. We shouldn't have to deficit spend to ensure people get the life-sustaining treatments and medications they need. Maybe our country is spending its money on the wrong things? Certainly there's a better way for everyone involved. Anyone know what it is?</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-59634921388857833052010-01-08T17:48:00.001-07:002010-01-08T18:09:25.582-07:00No more excuses<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">There is no good explanation for my last blog post being about what Grayson ate for dinner that evening, or the one before to feature a batch of cookies I had made (but man, were they good!). I have much more important things to share about my son and our lives as they pass by one day at a time. I guess I'm just doing odd things when I finally make the time to post something.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">School will not keep me too busy to write down how cute it is when Grayson comes up to us and says "Hold you" the way Cade used to do when he was the same age. The fact that my computer died and nearly took 6-7 months worth of pictures with it (although it did manage to destroy most of our videos) will not stop me from telling you that Grayson didn't make it to just 22 months without his first trip to Instacare (stitches). Vaseline head, home purchase, the holidays and a new room in the basement - there's so much you've missed!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">So</span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">...following this post will be several highlights I never bothered posting before. Pictures will accompany when available. But first I need to go check out what the kid's up to. Last time I saw him he was 'working on' Josh's extra computer with a screwdriver, but I just now heard the piano. Cross your fingers I'm not going to regret leaving him alone to blog for a few minutes.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-2548660046399609572009-12-03T20:10:00.000-07:002009-12-03T20:10:18.380-07:00Insatiable<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Grayson's dinner tonight:</span><br /><ul><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">3/4 cup of leftover casserole</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">1 container of </span><a href="http://www.gerber.com/Products/PASTA_PICK_UPS.aspx?PLineId=7510b910-e601-4a5c-97b2-331b4ce33e5b&PCatId=9772c526-b81c-45a2-80c7-dd7893122bea&PMilestoneId=98fef2e2-431f-4082-a5f2-0f17226b14b7"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">spinach and cheese raviolis</span></a></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">2 mandarin oranges</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">13 ounces of milk</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">1 slice <a href="http://www.tillamookcheese.com/OurProducts/Cheese/MediumCheddar10lbDeliStyleLoaf.aspx">cheddar cheese</a></span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">a handful of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Organic-Disney-Animal-Crackers-Vanilla/dp/B002CTAVK6">Costco animal crackers</a></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">a handful of craisins</span></li><li><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">3 mini doughnuts for dessert</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">He just kept asking for more. More, more, more. Then he started naming specific things he wanted: cheese, crackers, raisins, cookies. Every time I thought he was done, he threw me for another loop. And when I finally took him out of his chair, there were no crumbs left behind; he did</span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">n't hide a single thing. My baby was hungry. Little pig.</span></p>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-74806641385632414292009-11-11T18:43:00.001-07:002009-11-11T18:43:01.019-07:00mmmm...cookies<div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Steps to achieve the most delicious peanut butter cookies ever.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >1. Live with Shaneil for a spell.<br />2. Get her to give you her peanut butter chocolate chip cookie recipe.<br />3. Mix all the ingredients up in your Kitchen-Aid.<br />4. Take the dough: </span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj-RgaPPoI/AAAAAAAABVo/Od7BdING2aQ/s1600-h/dough.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj-RgaPPoI/AAAAAAAABVo/Od7BdING2aQ/s400/dough.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402347329742126722" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >and make it into little balls that you roll in sugar and flatten with a fork.</span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj_mcv2UjI/AAAAAAAABWY/iv1N6Q0IaZ0/s1600-h/ready.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj_mcv2UjI/AAAAAAAABWY/iv1N6Q0IaZ0/s400/ready.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402348789047906866" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >5. Cook them.<br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj_DE-bAcI/AAAAAAAABVw/eApTCrkLAzA/s1600-h/baked.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj_DE-bAcI/AAAAAAAABVw/eApTCrkLAzA/s400/baked.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402348181371158978" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >6. Cool them.</span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj_tk7zGOI/AAAAAAAABWg/Xyn_NI5m4Y8/s1600-h/cooled.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj_tk7zGOI/AAAAAAAABWg/Xyn_NI5m4Y8/s400/cooled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402348911504595170" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >7. Love them.</span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SvkAfdOJn1I/AAAAAAAABWo/MInW7lgzKWA/s1600-h/yummy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SvkAfdOJn1I/AAAAAAAABWo/MInW7lgzKWA/s400/yummy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402349768427544402" border="0" /></a></span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-72932808752798775712009-11-09T22:39:00.003-07:002009-11-10T18:10:18.915-07:00PS - Happy Halloween!<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj4OU78qGI/AAAAAAAABVQ/Obhq8hyqkIA/s1600-h/DSC_1299.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402340678052915298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj4OU78qGI/AAAAAAAABVQ/Obhq8hyqkIA/s400/DSC_1299.JPG" border="0" /></a>I got this mouse costume on clearance last year at Old Navy for five bucks. I figured it'd be a safe way to go since Grayson wouldn't be old enough to tell me what he "wants to be for Halloween" yet. Cheap costume, no prep work, and no back talk. Perfect!<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj4O2UWm5I/AAAAAAAABVY/_n6qtoa0WUY/s1600-h/DSC_1294.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402340687013649298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj4O2UWm5I/AAAAAAAABVY/_n6qtoa0WUY/s400/DSC_1294.JPG" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I stayed home and handed out toothbrushes while Josh took Grayson around our cul-de-sac to go trick-or-treating. We had been practicing saying "Trick or Treat!" all week, but I couldn't get him to put all three words together on a regular basis.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In action<br />(look at his little tail!)<br /></span></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj4esF2zZI/AAAAAAAABVg/FVYQYJycqZI/s1600-h/DSC_1311.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402340959146397074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Svj4esF2zZI/AAAAAAAABVg/FVYQYJycqZI/s400/DSC_1311.JPG" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Fortunately, he got the important part down pat, so Josh would knock on the door and when it opened, Grayson would yell "treat!" It was very cute (I know this because they surprise 'treated' me after they were done). He loved helping me when kids came to our house and he would step up to the door and take the candy out of his bag and put it into theirs. It was so cute. </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Such a beautiful night, such an adorable little boy.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> All three of us had a great Halloween. Can't wait for next year!</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-36394307065887212892009-11-04T19:52:00.003-07:002009-11-04T19:58:22.266-07:00stuff<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">We met a woman today whose husband goes by his middle name - like Josh does, but for an entirely different reason. Her husband's middle name is Jory. I think I like it, but maybe for a girl. I do like Dayna, though, and it obviously has more significance than Jory would, but I am really liking Jory. Maybe even more than Giana. We'll see.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">No, this definitely is NOT an annoucement, but I have been fantasizing lately about how cute Grayson would be with a little baby around the house. There's a baby girl at his daycare and apparently he just loves her. He pets her forehead and says "Hi Baby!" all day long. And of course there'd be the added perk of instant playmate, right? For example, he wouldn't be turning my chair 'round and 'round right now if he had a sibling to distract him, or pulling on my shirt sleeve because he really wants to hop up here and type something himself. Is that the way it works with a little brother or sister or is this just wishful thinking?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">But then I think to myself about how in love I am with my baby-turned-little-boy and I just can't imagine not being able to enjoy him as fully as I do. He is truly my ultimate joy in life - I almost feel like I'd be betraying him by bringing such a distraction into our home. On the other hand, we never intended or planned on him being an only child, so I'm sure those feelings will shift once my program is over and life isn't so hectic. I guess we'll see.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I might as well be pregnant with the way I've been craving cookies lately. Two weekends ago I made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies for some of Josh's coworkers and I didn't like the way they turned out. So I made pumpkin chocolate chip cookies instead but I burned one tray and Grayson and I kept eating the rest to the point that there weren't many left, so I froze the remaining 20 or so for a church activity later this month. Of course that made me feel guilty so I baked a new batch of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies this last weekend and they were </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">so.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">damn.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">good.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Seriously, they were absolutely delicious. I filled a container for Josh to drop off at work but kept the rest for myself. I am ashamed to admit it was difficult to limit myself to just four cookies per day. Luckily, Grayson didn't like them and Josh has been working so late every night that he usually gets home in time to eat dinner and head straight to bed, so I got to eat as many as I wanted without really having to share. Sadly, they are all gone now and I ate every single last one. The good (and bad) news is that I'm making another batch this weekend to give to a professor of mine to celebrate his birthday. I've already begun fantasizing about all of those cookies and where I'll hide the extras so I don't have to share again. My obsession is almost perverse.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">A few more tidbits I'm thinking about right now:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">1. I doubt I'll ever tire of combining red peppers with mushrooms.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">2. I tricked my son into letting me cook dinner without interruption tonight by giving him a pack of smarties. Just shameful.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">3. I'll never get to fully cross "do the dishes" off my list of things to do.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">4. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">The sound of laughter belting from my little boy is the most satisfying sound in the world.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">5. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Goodbye $62k; hello homeownership and alla its accompanying headaches. We couldn't be more excited to meet you.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-81604716170638044482009-10-27T22:47:00.000-06:002009-10-27T22:48:06.080-06:00What's That?<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Just had to throw a little update in here because I'm so infatuated with my son.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Grayson walks all around the house/store/church/etc. and constantly stops to point at something and ask "What's that?" only it sounds more like "Whu ta?" I'll answer him with either a long drawn-out explanation or a short one-word response, but no matter what I say, he cocks his head a little like he's really listening to me and then repeats the last word I said. He even inflects his voice up at the end of the sentence like he's not sure he understood me correctly. It's just so dang cute! He's been repeating things for a while now, but lately he's gotten really good at actually communicating with us. Just Saturday morning we all ended up in our bed and Grayson said his first three-word sentence: "I love Daddy," accompanied with all three signs. He tries to say the ABC's by himself but I have to jump in to give him <s>a little</s> a slew of guidance (he tries to sign the letters too - it's so cute). He parrots the books we read together and my phone conversations. He repeated two lines of our prayers tonight. He is such an adorable little boy!</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">20 months would be my absolute favorite new age except he's also begun to throw fits when I don't give him what he wants. Example: "No Grayson, you cannot have the knife; Mommy will cut the apple for you." His response: tears of abandonment accompanied by a literal meltdown until he's on the floor and banging his head against something. But it is so so cute how he always rubs my back when we embrace, says "uh-oh" when he purposefully drops something on the ground, hunts for things with his hand on his forehead, shoulders shrugged down, and toes on their tips, and 'jumps' as high as he can. Oh, he just melts my heart.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Dang, I need to be better about pulling out the camera to catch these little moments.</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-45797700445324147842009-10-12T21:42:00.000-06:002009-10-12T21:42:33.910-06:00Like a Bee<span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >Wow, am I busy as of late. School really has me hopping. Couple it with Josh's upgrade schedule and all of the equipment problems that ensue, thereby requiring even more of his time and attention on weekends, and it's a wonder I ever actually finish something - cooking, cleaning, studying, playing. And sometimes I don't. Somehow I'm managing to surround myself with just enough of the organized chaos that I've not yet gone completely crazy, but I don't know how I'm doing it.<br /><br />It gets frustrating that I simply can't find the time to scrub the floor the way I used to. The dishes wait a day to be cleaned now and the last load of laundry often sits in the dryer for a few days before I finally drag them out to fold (and that's usually only because we finally need those clothes back in circulation). I can't remember the last time I spent an hour pulling weeds in the yard, and there has been no jam-making or bread-baking since the program started. It's still uncomfortable to be living like this. Sadly, I feel like I've switched from flourishing mode to strictly surviving.<br /><br />I don't know why I didn't think my program would require this much time, but I just didn't. Josh groaned the other day when I mentioned I had to study for another test - it seems there's always a test, and there usually is. At least one test per week, sometimes more. The weekends are invaluable for me. Instead of getting household chores completed, I take off to the library for several hours and study in relative peace while my saintly husband wrangles the kid and tries to get the yard work done. But I didn't get my last two Saturdays (Josh was working - Sundays, too) so I've gotten a bit behind in my studies. Things aren't looking up for this weekend, either, and I'll be taking the hardest test to date next Monday.<br /><br />*sigh*<br /><br />I really miss my son. We used to play so often. We'd play outside, have lunch in the yard and swing afterward, read book after book after book before naptime, practice signing together, play the piano together, make my bed together. I realized this last weekend that I have to consciously force myself not to hurry him along, pick him up and carry him instead of letting him go at his own pace. I force myself to read a book with him before bedtime and laugh at his antics instead of shushing him. I no longer let him help me fold the laundry or empty the dishwasher - it takes too long. I leave him in his room for as long as possible every morning, just trying to get in one more minute of sleep or study. For some reason, I've placed Grayson last on my list of things worth spending time on. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >Now that my time is so valuable, he's become even less so. It broke my heart to realize it.<br /><br />That's not the kind of mom I want Grayson to have, and </span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >that's not the kind of mom I want to be. So I started changing today. We had fun when we got home from school and day care. We danced to the radio, including our favorite, "If I Could Turn Back Time", and he practiced his latest move - 'jumping' in place - for at least 20 minutes. He helped me empty the garbage, and we mated socks together. It was so much better than waiting until after he'd gone to sleep to do it. I didn't open a single book tonight, didn't fill out a single flash card. I have a quiz tomorrow and a test on Wednesday, but you know what? Meriting a "B" is going to get me the same degree earning an "A" will, so as long as I know my stuff and pass my boards, I'm not going to sweat it if the primary molars have oblique ridges or not. I have more important things, and people, to spend my time on.<br /></span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-6596605495288644202009-09-17T21:53:00.001-06:002009-09-17T21:53:35.253-06:00Shu, shu<span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Grayson is completely obsessed with shoes as of late. He'll meander throughout the house signing and saying "shoes" and then put his finger to his lips and say "hmm" like he's trying to remember where he left them. Then he promptly fetches them from their place by the door and brings them to me to help put them on his naked feet. Immediately thereafter, he retrieves *my* shoes from their respective spot alongside his, and insists that I put them on *my* naked feet. If I manage to slip them off and hide them from him, he simply finds another pair, brings them to me, and recites "shoes" over and over again until I put them on out of frustration to get him to leave me and the blasted shoes alone. And if you're wondering, yes, I have worn Josh's shoes on several occasions.<br /><br />I thought things would simply go on this way for a while until he learns to put them on completely by himself, but tonight he threw a wrench into the system - he went to bed actually holding his shoes. He had one in each hand and he never let go. He wouldn't even drop them for a drink of water or to cuddle his frog. I only just now took them away as he's been sleeping for nearly two hours and I thought it would be safe to do so. Bummer I didn't think to take a picture first. It was quite humorous to see.<br /><br />School is going wonderfully for me, but home life is still a little chaotic. I take the bus down to campus most days, so I have to get up extra early to drop Gray off at day care and still have time to park my car and get to the bus stop. It's working out for the most part so far, but he's an absolute beast some mornings and it's all I can do to get him strapped in to his car seat without beating him into submission. We were running so late this morning I had to drive down to campus instead. Most mornings go off without a hitch, though, so I can't really complain. I just wish Josh's schedule allowed him to drop Grayson off once in a while. All those early mornings in a row get brutal by week's end.<br /><br />Other than that, things are the same. Josh is still a work-addicted provider; Grayson is still deliciously adorable and jaw-clenchingly frustrating all at the same time; and I'm still dwelling on the stupid mistake I made on my first test that merited me an A- instead of an A. Boo! At least I'll never forget what kind of cementoenamel junction is the most prevalent, right? It's overlap, fyi. Stupid, stupid mistake. We're anxiously awaiting word about a dreamy short-sale we put an offer on months ago. It's a bit expensive, but it's basically Josh's dream home, so we threw our hats into the ring. The bank has since done the BPO and has been reviewing the offers since last Friday, so we hope to hear something by next week.<br /><br />PS - The worst mistake you could ever make it to list your home with the Prudential Real Estate team at the South Vally office in Draper, Utah. An especially bad move would be to involve Cheryl Staley in any part of the transaction. If you need details, just let me know. Otherwise, take my word for it and FIND A DIFFERENT AGENT!<br /></span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-69252044633756890722009-09-03T22:58:00.002-06:002009-09-04T08:42:58.348-06:00True Love<p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">I ♥ my dental hygiene program.<br />I ♥ a husband who brings me flowers for our anniversary, even when I completely forgot about it (sorry babe).<br />I ♥ a clean home and a relaxed mind.<br />I ♥ evening walks with my family with no particular place to go.<br />I ♥ secret lunches with my insignificant other.<br />I ♥ holidays that mean no school for me, and no work for Josh. It's like a mini-vacation!<br />I ♥ pushing my son on the swing set, helping him pick fresh tomatoes from the garden, and the way he still giggles at peek-a-boo.<br />I ♥ parades and am so excited to watch one on Saturday!<br /><br />But I mostly love my sweet baby who is growing up too dang fast and becoming more independent every day. Grayson signs so many words now, and he parrots everything I say. He's become really good at pronouncing his 'k' sound - rock, stuck, etc. He got a haircut last week (pics on a camera somewhere) and it's horribly short. He looked like he was going to enlist that very day. Gray now has all of his primary teeth except his four second molars which, coupled with his haircut, make him look like a little boy instead of a baby. It would be sad but he's still such a handsome little fella. I can hardly take my eyes off of him.<br /><br />Grayson is already 19 months old and wow, do I remember that bald little head shining up at me just like it was yesterday. I miss him a lot when I'm at school, but Josh and I are very thankful we even have this opportunity to make strides toward creating a better situation for our family in the future. One day he'll divorce AGFA and pursue something less stressful and more personally rewarding. In the meantime, though, life is good. We have no complaints.</span> </p> <p style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I ♥ my life.</span></p>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-22734544083983078962009-08-03T14:09:00.000-06:002009-08-03T14:10:20.912-06:00Long time, no post<span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >I just don't seem to have enough time in the day to post on this blog after I check my email. How can that be? I'm not exactly sure, but if it means Gray's a little happier and my house is a little cleaner, it's well worth the time spent offline. A quick update while the kiddie naps.<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Boat ride, July 29, 2009</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SndC2JceS9I/AAAAAAAABVI/PBTDDHwAEak/s1600-h/Grayboat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 261px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SndC2JceS9I/AAAAAAAABVI/PBTDDHwAEak/s400/Grayboat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365830979050949586" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Grayson: Turned 18 months old yesterday! Ate his first hot dog at Lake Powell this last </span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >week and sadly, he liked it. Also tried his first soda pop (root beer) and liked it. Latest growth spurt must be over because his appetite has gone way down. Will sign </span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >to me that he's tired but then won't go to sleep. When I tell him he's being silly, he signs that to me instead. Such a smart and funny boy.</span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Gives great back scratches, loves looking for birds through the windows, and climbs like a monkey. Attended nursery for the first time last Sunday and the ladies in there told Josh he was very well-behaved and quite 'durable' (apparently that means he let the older kids push him over, take his toys, and merely got up to go get something else instead of throwing a fit). My great baby is becoming a good little boy.<br /><br />Josh: Work- work- working to keep himself recession-proof and doing a fine job of it. Missed out on a great vacation in order to keep the peace between AGFA and IHC. Everyone loves him, me especially. What a saint!<br /></span><br /><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Me: Dental hygiene program pre-req's - check. CPR and first aid certifications - check. Dental hygienist observation hours - check. Tooth molds for dental anatomy class - check. Scrubs - check. Still need books, updated immunizations, and a long-sleeved lab coat.<br /><br />People ask me all the time if I'm getting excited for the dental hygiene program to start. Honestly, I am not. I'm still enjoying the summer break right now! And I'm worried about moving and about who's going to take care of Gray while I'm in class. Life would be so much easier if we could just fin</span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >d the perfect house and get settled into it before classes begin August 26. We've placed two offers on short sales, but those can take forever, so we're still looking. The upside is there isn't much activity on the house we're presently renting, so every day it doesn't sell is another day we can save more money (20% down + fall semester's tuition is stressing me out). Good times ahead!<br /><br />Anyway, my summer has been consumed with Grayson, vacations, and school preparations. I'm loving it!</span>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-877390877327125905.post-32911308124235774852009-07-08T14:15:00.000-06:002009-07-08T14:15:35.416-06:00Photo dump<span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq6zR0wbpI/AAAAAAAABTs/HZ4wkRqS6Tc/s1600-h/DSC_0379.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq6zR0wbpI/AAAAAAAABTs/HZ4wkRqS6Tc/s400/DSC_0379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353296497204031122" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >June pics, sans vacations...<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-size:85%;" >Happy Father's Day! June 21<st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"></st1:placename></st1:place></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style=";font-size:85%;" > <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5jmrI6BI/AAAAAAAABS4/adxjCaMsm3I/s1600-h/DSC_0376.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5jmrI6BI/AAAAAAAABS4/adxjCaMsm3I/s400/DSC_0376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295128411301906" border="0" /></a></span><span style=";font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5j0nzV5I/AAAAAAAABTA/IU0FOYywZZw/s1600-h/DSC_0377.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5j0nzV5I/AAAAAAAABTA/IU0FOYywZZw/s400/DSC_0377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295132155402130" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Hiking with Grandpa, June 15<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq6NH0WYAI/AAAAAAAABTk/cJqTvlqXius/s1600-h/DSCN2754.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq6NH0WYAI/AAAAAAAABTk/cJqTvlqXius/s400/DSCN2754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295841682939906" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:85%;">My mom said no more haircuts, Grandma! </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq55bzKONI/AAAAAAAABTU/YhF0hqAxqag/s1600-h/DSC_0348.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq55bzKONI/AAAAAAAABTU/YhF0hqAxqag/s400/DSC_0348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295503449274578" border="0" /></a>But man, do I look good now! June 9</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq55Jk0rII/AAAAAAAABTM/380zpflBAjg/s1600-h/DSC_0364.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq55Jk0rII/AAAAAAAABTM/380zpflBAjg/s400/DSC_0364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295498557303938" border="0" /></a>You gonna push me or what? June 12<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq55zHM0fI/AAAAAAAABTc/fdayoqTFY-E/s1600-h/DSCN2734.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq55zHM0fI/AAAAAAAABTc/fdayoqTFY-E/s400/DSCN2734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295509707346418" border="0" /></a>Melting Grandpa's heart, June 12<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq9HTEnaBI/AAAAAAAABT8/YZGL8_5oVtA/s1600-h/DSC_0366.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq9HTEnaBI/AAAAAAAABT8/YZGL8_5oVtA/s400/DSC_0366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353299040159623186" border="0" /></a>Thirsty, June 28<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SkrGbUVdLUI/AAAAAAAABUU/iykvSGA_YsA/s1600-h/hose.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 392px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SkrGbUVdLUI/AAAAAAAABUU/iykvSGA_YsA/s400/hose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353309279700725058" border="0" /></a><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The first weekend in June all of my siblings and their families came up/over to attend the baby blessing of our family's newest addition - Zoey. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq-f939obI/AAAAAAAABUE/5WPOHIwrWT8/s1600-h/DSCN2527.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq-f939obI/AAAAAAAABUE/5WPOHIwrWT8/s400/DSCN2527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353300563477766578" border="0" /></a>Since everyone was here, we partied all day Saturday, hitting up the <a href="http://www.wheelerfarm.com/wfPDF/EasterCarnivalStampe.pdf">Wheeler Farm Summer Stampede</a> that morning, touring the <a href="http://www.lds.org/temples/openhouseinfo/0,12357,1921-1-597-0,00.html">Oquirrh Mountain Temple</a> open house that afternoon, and eating dinner in our back yard that evening. It was a wonderful day!<br /></span></div></div> <span style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" > </span> <p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTW0XwV_OI/AAAAAAAABUo/8moIOVTYnWs/s1600-h/DSCN2682.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTW0XwV_OI/AAAAAAAABUo/8moIOVTYnWs/s400/DSCN2682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356142052068687074" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTWzz5Y2SI/AAAAAAAABUg/NZWSsDVJQ8Q/s1600-h/DSCN2680.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTWzz5Y2SI/AAAAAAAABUg/NZWSsDVJQ8Q/s400/DSCN2680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356142042442946850" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5i_uzVQI/AAAAAAAABSo/t_FhdQPqJko/s1600-h/DSCN2670.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5i_uzVQI/AAAAAAAABSo/t_FhdQPqJko/s400/DSCN2670.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295117957682434" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTW0wk_rOI/AAAAAAAABUw/05mJL-psSjI/s1600-h/DSCN2684.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTW0wk_rOI/AAAAAAAABUw/05mJL-psSjI/s400/DSCN2684.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356142058731973858" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Feeding ducks (this will be boring to everyone except me)</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5iTsawYI/AAAAAAAABSg/bkO5fYjWmf4/s1600-h/OquirrhTemple6609.jpg"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzjkKwoWz2OZNrwZ6ndaMLEoKq9W5-rWV3sY3syHCyjCRShhb2OYC3jwOpz-Icbpi2ueEJIIc1tcaWg7jyUSg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Cousins, June 6<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5jVe4F5I/AAAAAAAABSw/VB2kcx7sNXk/s1600-h/DSC_0338.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5jVe4F5I/AAAAAAAABSw/VB2kcx7sNXk/s400/DSC_0338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295123796465554" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5iTsawYI/AAAAAAAABSg/bkO5fYjWmf4/s1600-h/OquirrhTemple6609.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/Skq5iTsawYI/AAAAAAAABSg/bkO5fYjWmf4/s400/OquirrhTemple6609.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295106136523138" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;" align="center"><span style=";font-size:85%;" >My Family, June 6</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style=";font-size:85%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTYvYa8pII/AAAAAAAABVA/y1ZqQAGDyC0/s1600-h/DSCN2698.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pesm9DdC8Lg/SlTYvYa8pII/AAAAAAAABVA/y1ZqQAGDyC0/s400/DSCN2698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356144165371290754" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Daisy Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05660203283643761038noreply@blogger.com6