tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35133904361690747722024-03-12T20:27:44.747-07:00Life with KidsLife With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-6736196116354523752014-04-14T19:55:00.001-07:002014-04-14T19:55:39.297-07:005 Pitfalls of the Eat Clean Diet<span style="font-size: large;">We began our own version of the Eat Clean diet about 5 years ago. I was trying to figure out what was causing me to get frequent headaches and after much reading decided there was a good chance they were connected to something I was eating, specifically processed food additives and chemicals. </span><div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I should clarify my definition of eating clean:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No processed food, or food with ingredients that are not whole foods.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Most items that come in a bag, box, or can)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mostly organic food where available</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the past 5 years I have noticed a few things that can easily happen as a result of eating this way, so I am sharing with you in the hopes that others will not make the same mistakes that I have.</span></div>
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">Not Enough Salt:</b><span style="font-size: large;"> Since most people get a major salt overdose from eating too many processed foods we are always told to reduce salt. REDUCE SALT. It's like the mantra of our society. Well, that can be dangerous when you're following the eat clean method. Your salt will naturally be reduced to nothing except what you pour out of the salt shaker yourself. Now you have to think like your ancestors and salt to survive. Under salting your food will cause trouble with people who have lower blood pressure and people with weakened immune systems (which is basically every American). Don't go light on the salt!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Not Enough Fat: </b>Another popular bad guy right now. It can be tempting and easy to cut out most and all fat from your diet. This is especially important for children who need extra fat for proper brain development. Not enough fat will leave you tired and hungry and possibly depressed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Becoming an Accidental Vegetarian:</b> many people will probably not agree with me that this is a bad thing, but after struggling with anxiety and depression and seeing my children struggle similarly I read around a bit more and discovered the importance of amino acids and the brain. Since most of us get our amino acids through meat it is incredibly important to get it regularly. I'm not talking binge eating steaks, but regular meat protein throughout the day even in small amounts is very helpful and has made a big difference for us. If you decide to become a vegetarian, don't do it by accident, be informed and make sure you have a good source of amino acids.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Being too Afraid to Have Some Good Fall Backs: </b>Nobody can keep it together all the time. Hunt up some good brands for weeks when you're feeling too out of it to stick to this way of eating so you don't lose it and give up all together. We like Barbara's cereals sometimes, and Central Market brand frozen Ravioli's. Both have decent ingredients and don't make me feel terrible about compromising.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Succumbing to the Sugar Trap: </b>"I'm making it myself so that makes it healthy." WRONG. I can't tell you how many pans of delicious brownies I have made with those words running through my head. True, it's better for me than a DQ Blizzard, but not much. If you haven't read about how sugar is basically the devil, I suggest you google it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope this is helpful. All of these points were learned by accident and through trial and error. We have happily rectified them and are still going strong although the sugar trap is still something I have to consciously avoid every day.</span>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-40577447804365931282014-01-17T11:59:00.000-08:002014-01-17T11:59:03.162-08:00The Magnesium Albuterol Connection Albuterol causes your body to flush magnesium.<br />
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Albuterol breathing treatments were prescribed for my son two years ago after he was diagnosed by the pediatrician with walking pneumonia and soon after he was diagnosed with asthma. When my son was 18 months old I noticed he had a dry cough that lasted overly long, ending after about 6 weeks. There was no fever and later we had him tested for allergies and found out that he has seasonal allergies and the cough was a result of that. Fast forward to right after his 5th birthday, the walking pneumonia, a series of antibiotics and several days of breathing treatments and then an allergy season that was filled with so much coughing and difficulty breathing that we were advised by the pediatrician to use albuterol whenever he needed it.<br />
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I lean more on the side of homeopathics, so we got some excellent homeopathic treatments and used the albuterol only in severe instances which was probably 6 times in 3 months until his allergies passed. We did this same route for 18 months, making it through 2 allergy seasons and eventually having to use the albuterol for colds and viruses as they would make his asthma kick in badly. At that point I realized that something was wrong. He was unhappy, tense and his asthma was getting worse and worse.<br />
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At that time my aunt told me about <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Magnesium-Miracle-Carolyn-Dean/dp/034549458X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1389987869&sr=8-1&keywords=the+magnesium+miracle" target="_blank">The Magnesium Miracle.</a> I was at the end of my rope mentally, freaking out inwardly wondering if we were going to end up having to give him steroids for his lungs and eventually end up taking daily inhalers. We had been prescribed these avenues before but were able to get by comfortably using homeopathic treatments. <br />
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After reading about the connection between magnesium and asthma I decided to give it a try. Not only does it help his asthma, but he seems happier, and more relaxed. Don't get me wrong, he's still a crazy active boy, but he seems to actually feel better. He's been taking magnesium daily now for 3 months and we have not had a single asthmatic instance. We're coming into allergy season in the next few week so I'll get on here and give a report of how that goes as well. I'm hoping we can make it through without using any breathing treatments, but we'll have to wait and see.<br />
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I researched the albuterol/magnesium relationship out of curiosity after starting him on the supplements, it seemed almost unreal that they could have such a profoundly good affect on him. It turns out that taking albuterol causes your kidneys to flush magnesium. Since magnesium is what your body utilizes to relax your soft muscle tissue that in turn causes the asthma to come back worse creating a rebound affect. If you don't use a supplement to replace the magnesium your body will continue to lack it causing worse and worse inflammation until you're in the same boat we were in, or relying daily on inhalers.<br />
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<br />Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-56491967114400852892010-11-04T20:43:00.000-07:002010-11-04T20:53:43.200-07:00Things I'm Dying to Tell You1. I've been buying raw fresh milk from a local farm. It's THE BOMB. Also <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mariah</span> isn't allergic to it. She's allergic to store bought milk, but not raw milk. Explain that one.<div><br /></div><div>2. We still have 5 chickens making their home in our backyard. One almost got eaten by a hawk....but didn't. </div><div><br /></div><div>3. They're finally laying eggs! Three or four a day. </div><div><br /></div><div>4. I made my own mozzarella cheese today and it's good!</div><div><br /></div><div>5. I'm officially a freak! (deduced from the first four items I've been dying to tell you). </div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ummmmmmm</span>, also my kids are doing great. The house is great. I'm still homesick, but it comes and goes. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>Pictures are coming as soon as I can find my camera battery charger. I've been looking [read: gazing aimlessly] for it everywhere. I have so many wonderful <i>chicken</i> pictures to share with you! Aren't you excited?!?!?!*</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*Please refer to #5.</div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-62670822467199976642010-07-28T20:26:00.000-07:002010-07-28T20:38:03.410-07:00Winnie the...<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.disneypicture.net/data/media/57/winnie_the_pooh_wallpaper_free.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 361px; height: 270px;" src="http://www.disneypicture.net/data/media/57/winnie_the_pooh_wallpaper_free.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> Poo Poo<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I probably should have corrected the kids the first time they called this lovable little icon Poo Poo, but I just couldn't help myself. They still think that's his real name......<span style="font-size:85%;">What?? some kids grow up believing a fat guy in a red suit at the mall gives them Christmas presents, let me have my fun.</span></span><br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-30138841020772340612010-07-27T19:35:00.000-07:002010-07-27T20:15:47.785-07:00The Truth about BarbacoaHave I told you the story about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Barbacoa</span> yet? I don't think I have, and since I just consumed my weight in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">barbacoa</span> tacos following a very bad night and equally bad day I'll tell you it.<br /><br />When <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Helmut</span> and I were first married we used to drive down to Mexico at least once a month and spend the weekend with his parents. They would go out of their way to make <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Helmut's</span> favorite Mexican dishes which soon became my favorite dishes, because while all food down there is much simpler in ingredients, it's somehow tastes much richer in flavors.....<span style="font-style: italic;">at least for me and my delinquent taste buds </span>(a story for another time). Depending on who you're dining with the food may look strange.....scary even (because you know they do sell brain tacos and fried blood down there), but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Helmut's</span> parents are very picky in what they will eat and have never served me anything "weird" by American standards.<br /><br />Our visits had gone on monthly for quite a while when they started to tire of making the same things over and over, so one afternoon before we were supposed to leave they brought in a precooked/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">pre</span>-shredded meat, some fresh tortillas, limes, cilantro, and onions. I could tell they were a little nervous about feeding me this meat, but from what I could tell it just looked like some beef....and my gosh was it ever delicious! I ate and ate and ate until I was stuffed, towards the end I asked what it was exactly, they all avoided my eyes and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Helmut</span> told me it was goat meat. I told them it was the tastiest goat meat I'd ever had and I LOVED it.<br /><br />Every visit for the next two years I specially requested that meal again to which they all politely declined, and not wanting to make my new In-Laws uncomfortable i quit asking for it.<br /><br />Fast Forward through my pregnancy and Hayden's first year, and now I am halfway through my pregnancy with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Mariah</span>.... or I guess i could just say "3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ish</span> years later."-----<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Helmut</span> and I found a Mexican flee market on the outskirts of Austin and decided to spend the day looking around. At lunch time we made our way over to the taco stands and were trying to decide which kind of tacos to get. Unlike Mexican taco stands these places had the menu's in Spanish AND English. I'm just going to cut to the chase here, obviously you've figured out that there's a listing for the very literal translation of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Barbacoa</span> on there. It's Beef Head. BEEF HEAD. Like the whole head of a cow. I was really grossed out. I looked at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Helmut</span> and said "Beef HEAD?? LIKE THE HEAD OF A COW???" and he was all, "yeah, didn't i tell you that?(Guilty face). NO, No he did not. Oh well, at least I only ate it once.<br /><br />Once his family realized that I knew what it was and still wanted it they began buying it for us again....once in a while....as a treat.....pretty much just for me.<br /><br />I looked up recipes for making it at home and all of the authentic ones include purchasing the entire head and removing the eyes, ears, and tongue yourself, then wrapping it in tin foil and steaming it for a million hours. I don't think that's going to happen anything soon, and reading that turned my insides to jello for a while, but I'm hooked. Lets say it's a twice a year treat....or since we found that authentic taco place in Round Rock it's more like a once every 6 weeks treat.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-76801325475148386962010-07-24T21:11:00.000-07:002010-07-24T21:13:50.610-07:00First Names Take 2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJtdKW-aibhsS5a8NJ4aZXX-JgqaM01Hpl9ZVcFh4oD7SW6AWYDq8n2mUZUQliD8SCNA70y5A-5SUuCy5-OjRMGUsEDNjCFXvBmgrkwdQJ7cu6N6rxKVL-Dqu6PGShqAaEVUitVwmZF4/s1600/Wall-E.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJtdKW-aibhsS5a8NJ4aZXX-JgqaM01Hpl9ZVcFh4oD7SW6AWYDq8n2mUZUQliD8SCNA70y5A-5SUuCy5-OjRMGUsEDNjCFXvBmgrkwdQJ7cu6N6rxKVL-Dqu6PGShqAaEVUitVwmZF4/s400/Wall-E.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497692075568753650" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;">"Lolly"</span><br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-89507177428756558782010-07-24T21:05:00.000-07:002010-07-24T21:11:24.153-07:00First Names<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXo0lyvUAe18-mxf2gwNttMraIZbKgLIZuIcwp1MiIqjTEsdDQZ6JTXkTIDdFoBp7fUmTGMNdSOKAOh6fVVmdCPEqf0nIeHkS5_WfOXITtx8JUjfA7PBE0kHRJN_o1sQVR5h6c8iF_h1E/s1600/nemo_clown_fish-4801.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXo0lyvUAe18-mxf2gwNttMraIZbKgLIZuIcwp1MiIqjTEsdDQZ6JTXkTIDdFoBp7fUmTGMNdSOKAOh6fVVmdCPEqf0nIeHkS5_WfOXITtx8JUjfA7PBE0kHRJN_o1sQVR5h6c8iF_h1E/s400/nemo_clown_fish-4801.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497691304935539426" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">"Email"</span></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-35997406072055989542010-07-24T21:01:00.000-07:002010-07-24T21:05:19.191-07:00Catch UpThe following few posts are of names my kids call stuff. None of these were prompted.<br /><br />....Oh yeah, we're doing good. I finally got my computer to work again, let's hope it holds out for a little bit longer....or at least until we find some gold doubloons in our new backyard and can afford another Mac.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-44291267091221263402010-06-19T20:15:00.000-07:002010-06-19T20:33:19.190-07:00Hello World.....or the 3 People Who Still Read This (I Heart You).Okay, I know it's been a while. A really long while, and to be honest the thing that bothers me the most about not blogging is that I've got about a thousand chicken pictures backed up that I'm longing to showcase. I know, it's sad. Several months of not blogging and the only thing I care about is showing you chicken pictures. My gosh somebody slap me.<br /><br />We are completely moved into the new house now. I haven't taken any pictures yet, but I'll get around to it eventually....probably when we're ready to move again. I have to say, after living here for a month, I'm in love. We were really skeptical about this house for a few reasons. One: it only has three bedrooms so Hayden and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mariah</span> have to share. Two: there's this big awkward space right when you walk in the front door that we can't figure out what to do with and we definitely don't have enough furniture to put in it. Three: It has a smaller yard than our last place and we value a big yard. All three points have worked themselves out though. The room sharing has actually been quite fun for the kids. I thought having them share a room would be a sleep loss nightmare (for me), but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mariah</span> is a heavier sleeper than I thought and has so far slept through all of Hayden's nightly strolls and potty breaks. The bonus room has turned into a temporary piano room/play room, which when we're having a good day is almost <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">magically</span> wonderful...like something from a movie, And the smaller backyard has proven that quality is better than quantity....what can I say, I appreciate mature trees and SHADE.<br /><br />I don't have any pictures to display right now since per my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">facebook</span> status I am out a computer for a while and am borrowing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Helmut's</span> to make this long overdue post, but hopefully something soon.<br /><br />Also, we took the kids to see Toy Story 3 today and it was hilarious. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Mariah</span> didn't quite make it to the end, but Hayden was still jamming popcorn in his mouth as the credits were rolling. As far as scary goes, i don't think it was as scary as the first and will probably be my favorite of all 3 of the series.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-32018174634300495332010-05-11T21:30:00.000-07:002010-05-11T21:42:52.290-07:00Random Bad Flower Pictures (or Weeds)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUShLkjs9xorDqOO_Jejl9eOKueygWtht7Xb8QeVlZijirafI7MdiPjw-aaKr1JaDvxxmNtS5RHh83kqJoTeKmEsoHwVjnBBvpY8ISadlr6H_eG1dMndM4i1qsL9wM86jXmgnbxyLTHU/s1600/DSC_0216.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUShLkjs9xorDqOO_Jejl9eOKueygWtht7Xb8QeVlZijirafI7MdiPjw-aaKr1JaDvxxmNtS5RHh83kqJoTeKmEsoHwVjnBBvpY8ISadlr6H_eG1dMndM4i1qsL9wM86jXmgnbxyLTHU/s400/DSC_0216.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470237004068462178" border="0" /></a><br />Okay, I realize it's been a while since my last post, and you are maybe wanting an update on moving, house selling, life with chicks, the last 5 horribly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">embarrassing</span> tantrums that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mariah</span> threw, etc. But instead I'm going to give you a challenge:<br /><br />Name this flower. What the heck is this? I saw it today in the backyard growing alongside all the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">dandelions</span>. It looks like a really big <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">dandelion</span>.<br /><br />For <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">comparison</span> purposes, behold a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">dandelion</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloEhgldPpuA-3yx2LxekU6z6i8ExMB3J758TT8r-3uHJhAwZ4nKEQl0d3b60J18VkcPC1ty0Z31Lx2EkpCpNcD59bj3afseo1-wGgSddqY1RYNPDhga3cVybqDjA9F3OxZtJHRMdN1qw/s1600/DSC_0218.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloEhgldPpuA-3yx2LxekU6z6i8ExMB3J758TT8r-3uHJhAwZ4nKEQl0d3b60J18VkcPC1ty0Z31Lx2EkpCpNcD59bj3afseo1-wGgSddqY1RYNPDhga3cVybqDjA9F3OxZtJHRMdN1qw/s400/DSC_0218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470239016764706626" border="0" /></a>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-31458255115026734602010-04-22T21:16:00.000-07:002010-04-22T21:23:55.013-07:00Conversations with a Three Year Old: The House<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNZb8CNL7_elEIg-LHY2DqZucAa6WO2haySU5-vc_HdJjVrXPZaCiYJpK4ZRmGwEWypCyMgQ5kBLPDrRDZACq5Z9dHH1Teno6vog1XZwIQ70Lg7WdjUg0KdqcwlrbUCVqWi-47fDfNdE/s1600/DSC_0151.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNZb8CNL7_elEIg-LHY2DqZucAa6WO2haySU5-vc_HdJjVrXPZaCiYJpK4ZRmGwEWypCyMgQ5kBLPDrRDZACq5Z9dHH1Teno6vog1XZwIQ70Lg7WdjUg0KdqcwlrbUCVqWi-47fDfNdE/s400/DSC_0151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463183675821209522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Hayden: "Mommy, what's that?"<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Pointing to a screw sized hole in the ceiling)</span><br /><br />Me: "It's just a hole"<br /><br />Hayden: "OH NO MY HOUSE IS <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">BROOOOOOKEEEEEN</span>.....I'm so sad."<br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-91486507189972224742010-04-22T21:02:00.000-07:002010-04-22T21:16:04.381-07:00House for Sale: DIY Do or DieThe past three days we've been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">internetless</span> or I'd have filled you in on the catastrophe that was our house. As you know we've had the house for sale for a week now. The second day it was for sale <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Helmut</span> knocked off a couple of tiles in the shower exposing some ominously moldy drywall. That was the cause of freak out #1. When I say freak out, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">I'm</span> really exaggerating, because while the mold was alarming, it was still easily fixed.<br /><br />We both spent the entire day researching bathroom mold fixes <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">DIY</span> and came up with a plan. First remove all the tiles covering the moldy area. Second replace the wet drywall with backer board, and lastly, replace all the tiles and re grout. We began to execute our plan Thursday night after the kids went to bed. It took <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Helmut</span> hours to clean off all the tiles so we could reuse them. Then he cut out the old drywall exposing......<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">da</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">da</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">daaaaaaaaaaa</span> (musical interlude), TERMITES. Crap.<br /><br />I spent Friday lining up appointments with Termite inspectors to make sure that was the only affected area and to get it treated. By Monday we had a full termite inspection done which revealed only damage to the bathroom. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Helmut</span> was able to fix and patch the hole and now we are finally back in business. I just hope that seeing a gaping hole in the bathroom shower didn't turn away any buyers. <span style="font-style: italic;">Come on people you know you loved the house with the creepy bug infested bathroom.</span> Nothing screams <span style="font-style: italic;">buy me</span> like rotting drywall and the stench of mold.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-45612477113153372682010-04-19T22:07:00.001-07:002010-04-19T22:09:15.464-07:00Confession: GardeningOne time I ordered a "corner" garden from a magazine. I expected the <br />plants to come in pots and wondered how they could ship 50+ plants so <br />cheaply (free shipping). What I got were 50+ tightly bound roots in a <br />small box. I planted them dutifully following the instructions. Three <br />months later I was the proud owner of four blooming flowers.<p>Life Lesson #18: if it sounds to good to be true it is too good to be <br />true.</p>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-41183739088668145982010-04-17T20:37:00.000-07:002010-04-17T20:53:55.505-07:00House Woes and Other StuffAs of Thursday our house is for sale. As of Friday our house no longer looks like a gem. Now it resembles a fixer upper, scarry, not-gonna-buy-that-house, house. Why? In short, Helmut leaned over in the shower and a bunch of tiles fell off the wall. I don't think he even bumped them. We've lived in this house for 4 years and somehow failed to realize the shower wall was a rotted, wet, moldy, old piece of drywall. duh. Everybody knows that.....<span style="font-style: italic;">except us. </span>I did notice a slight crack in the tiles, but i thought that was normal? I don't know what I thought, but after using the shower for 4 years and not having it implode, i figured it was okay. <span style="font-style: italic;">I figured wrong</span>, and now we are committed to completely redoing the shower, or at least whatever is affected by the rot, which appears to be the entire back wall. Guess what else happened on Friday....our bid got accepted on the new house we're planning on buying...ha <span style="font-size:130%;">ha</span> <span style="font-size:180%;">ha</span>. Oh well. What can a person do.<br /><br />Instead of moping around and saving our pennies to pay for the shower repair and the new house, and the old house, and whatever else, we decided to take the kids to their first theater movie. So we got up early this morning and went to the first showing of "how to train your Dragon." Hayden sat silently and still through the entire movie while Helmut and I juggled Mariah as she wiggled around, demanded to hold the popcorn bucket at all times, spilled half a bottle of water on her lap, and flailed randomly. There were a few moments I thought to myself "maybe we should remove this little menace from the theater," but neither of us wanted to miss the action, so we distracted her with more popcorn. All in all it was great.<br /><br />To sum up this very dry blog: House>bad, Movie>good.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-23587329162301047262010-04-14T13:37:00.000-07:002010-04-14T13:53:01.028-07:00Battle of the Doll<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qNqXW2e3eZ5rR88kirSWfcq-cvqpKgcH52dzDRvWQeU-ALH9p-e9f2aIqMA9e0CpTTM9STukcBFEoUCDF_DC29JaM39O6ZJIWTMYo8twZvZDLzw1aYW9KEJeruO-_q7Zhi69RX4g1zw/s1600/DSC_0171.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qNqXW2e3eZ5rR88kirSWfcq-cvqpKgcH52dzDRvWQeU-ALH9p-e9f2aIqMA9e0CpTTM9STukcBFEoUCDF_DC29JaM39O6ZJIWTMYo8twZvZDLzw1aYW9KEJeruO-_q7Zhi69RX4g1zw/s400/DSC_0171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460098093396556450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Is it just me or are pictures of dolls totally creepy?</span><br /></div><br />Soon after my abrupt career as baby shoemaker ended I started making (or trying to make) dresses for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mariah</span>. For a little while it was fun, but I quickly realized that there is no way making clothes for her is cheaper than buying them. Plus the cheap clothes at the store are always cuter than the weird things i make her, AND they hold up better in the washing machine. So I stopped making her clothes and despaired that I would ever be able to make anything with my sewing machine than wouldn't actually lose me money.....until last week.<br /><br />{Enter: the naked doll}<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mariah</span> got a really cute doll for her birthday. It's called bath doll <span style="font-style: italic;">or something</span> from Target. It came dressed in a little t-shirt and a diaper which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mariah</span> promptly removed. In the months since <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mariah's</span> birthday we have fought an epic battle of clothed doll vs naked doll, with me repeatedly dressing the thing while she as quickly undresses it and leaves it lying around naked. A couple of days ago I was trying to redress the dolly without her noticing when I couldn't find the shirt or diaper. She must have stashed them somewhere when I wasn't paying attention. That night after she went to bed I had an idea. Why not make some doll clothes out of the scraps I had left from my failed attempts at .....<span style="font-style: italic;">everything else I've tried to make so far.</span><br /><br />Three days later I'm finished. I think they're decent, if not a little cute. Certainly cuter than anything I've made for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Mariah</span> thus far. In case you can't tell what they're supposed to be, they're doll pajamas. I priced some doll clothes at target which go for 8.99$ on sale and 9.99$ regular price. These probably cost me .50 cents in materials, and 1 hour in time (only because I made my own pattern). So there, I finally found something that is cheaper made at home. Doll Clothes.<br /><br />Is this the beginning of my career as a doll clothing designer? Who knows. But it's certainly the start of something. At the very least <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Mariah's</span> dolls will have clothing, whether she chooses to allow them to be clothed or not.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-40381476138256226292010-04-13T19:57:00.000-07:002010-04-13T19:59:47.862-07:00Paints<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZPAJdLl07FvRuJshUxN7EIaveSEfA1oyIu4QnOA1o-I3zqP4Fs_um4sgRpp6KS_B2g8u5BDpg9ecWmwAwNdp-_qDcUZettXoE9CR7t4LhZUQsxe0tC72gL3MVXDGbiIu1-DZQZhgUyQ/s1600/DSC_0170.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZPAJdLl07FvRuJshUxN7EIaveSEfA1oyIu4QnOA1o-I3zqP4Fs_um4sgRpp6KS_B2g8u5BDpg9ecWmwAwNdp-_qDcUZettXoE9CR7t4LhZUQsxe0tC72gL3MVXDGbiIu1-DZQZhgUyQ/s400/DSC_0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459822104780869714" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It was even cuter when he was wearing the hat. One of Hayden's favorite activities that doesn't include running.</span><br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-45255885107341188532010-04-12T21:10:00.000-07:002010-04-12T21:16:34.664-07:00Life with Chicks: The Raddist Cage on the Planet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNC1GAWWBJ8dtUCc54F-EHmnwbTEEKl5i0YXQqFCZCKDJKVFkVbvkRD5MIAYj9RIEaRGWGYalxru5pbc3zG00xr-25d_mdepfnpEIWSMjFCQKcFsDOgnHeXZbUOhoDRgd-7dk4J0QlVo/s1600/DSC_0143.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNC1GAWWBJ8dtUCc54F-EHmnwbTEEKl5i0YXQqFCZCKDJKVFkVbvkRD5MIAYj9RIEaRGWGYalxru5pbc3zG00xr-25d_mdepfnpEIWSMjFCQKcFsDOgnHeXZbUOhoDRgd-7dk4J0QlVo/s400/DSC_0143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459470532052610018" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">After the chicken eating contest that the cats held a couple weeks ago, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Helmut</span> took it upon himself to build the remaining chickens a cage to keep them safe. This also means they no longer take up a stinky space in our garage. I'm pleased....as are the chickens.<br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-67888493925063769242010-04-08T21:47:00.000-07:002010-04-08T22:05:43.058-07:00Conversations with a Three Year Old: Pedestrians<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv04seAbn3YqDz9GOoTpDIed3E2f7kpCBvfnDuFFUysQpDPD7ewPGUTSAi1GXu88GglKdBygzWB6k7y1mdws8lQIUtmHnyFWhyphenhyphenMkeCQ_oQXELFpGvZ61mjJD38wPo9V1YUO-qAX6d61Rc/s1600/DSC_0109_1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv04seAbn3YqDz9GOoTpDIed3E2f7kpCBvfnDuFFUysQpDPD7ewPGUTSAi1GXu88GglKdBygzWB6k7y1mdws8lQIUtmHnyFWhyphenhyphenMkeCQ_oQXELFpGvZ61mjJD38wPo9V1YUO-qAX6d61Rc/s400/DSC_0109_1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457999362933890978" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">This exchange took place in the car on the way home from the store one night. It's important to note that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Helmut</span> and Hayden couldn't see each other at the time.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(From the back seat)</span>Hayden: <span style="font-style: italic;">wiping something from his eye,</span><br />"What's that?"<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(From the driver's seat) </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Helmut</span>: <span style="font-style: italic;">noticing a pedestrian,</span><br />"That's just a man walking down the street."<br /><br />Hayden: <span style="font-style: italic;">pausing to think</span>,<br />"there's a man walking down the street in my eye??"<br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-67148383585089685382010-04-07T19:59:00.000-07:002010-04-07T20:50:48.085-07:00Spider Advice---->Help!I just googled "are spiders attracted to certain people." You want to know why? The day we spent at the ranch with friends marks the 4th occasion on which I have found a spider resting on Mariah's shoulder.<br /><br />When I was little my siblings got kicks out of watching shows like "America's Most Wanted," Kujo," "The Gremlins," and pretty much anything scary, so when "Arachnophobia" came out they were all over it. I must have watched it 3 or 4 times before I realized I didn't like watching scary movies. <span style="font-style: italic;">To this day I will close my eyes if I think something scary is going to happen....not that I'm scared ---->pashaw----> I just don't want to have repeats of those scenes playing over and over in my head when I'm trying to fall asleep...which is inevitably what happens</span>. Anyway, that was also the point in my young life where I realized that I am absolutely terrified of spiders. For a long time after that movie I would double and triple check the toilet to make sure there weren't any in there, and I would always let the shower run for a few minutes to make sure no spiders would come out of the shower head.<br /><br />I'll never forget the time I was walking with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Helmut</span> and Hayden on trail at one of the local parks when i began to notice all these freakishly large spiders living in the trees over head. There were hundreds of them....and FREAKISHLY LARGE.....<span style="font-size:180%;">like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">oreo</span> cookie sized</span>. I contemplated blacking out, but the thought of laying under them was worse than the thought of sprinting to the car and hopefully out running their creepy spider intentions.<br /><br />There was also that time when I was living out at Camp Eagle. I was heading back home one evening 6 miles into the 8 mile driveway when I spotted a tarantula crossing the road. So naturally I slowed down and let it go by.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Let this be a lesson to you parents. Don't let your kids watch scary stuff on TV or they may develop certain irrational fears.</span><br /><br />Back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mariah</span>: Four times now I have found spiders on her shoulder. <span style="font-size:180%;">FOUR</span>. Can anyone explain this?! I have NEVER found a spider on Hayden's person. DOES SHE NEED MORE BATHS? IS IT A BLOOD TYPE THING? Somebody clue me in so i don't have to keep flicking spiders off of her. All the stress from the spider flicking is also probably the REAL explanation as to why my diet is NOT WORKING......<span style="font-style: italic;">but that's another blog post.</span>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-30508960558842566462010-04-06T12:51:00.000-07:002010-04-06T12:56:26.842-07:00Confession: Interpretations<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0SMdxRc9v5wkfRu8y4mxwnjlIT2NgdLMW712NE6EcLXyx6MSnGMNkLk1b1F_8bwU8qqDMGot8p3prbf0Zs_qKczqbCpPsqcr6n90YcesKTSCie1YuI_6aSHwdxeCFo4whoB3oLJ2qpoc/s1600/DSC_0065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0SMdxRc9v5wkfRu8y4mxwnjlIT2NgdLMW712NE6EcLXyx6MSnGMNkLk1b1F_8bwU8qqDMGot8p3prbf0Zs_qKczqbCpPsqcr6n90YcesKTSCie1YuI_6aSHwdxeCFo4whoB3oLJ2qpoc/s400/DSC_0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457115364804576690" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Confession: Sometimes when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mariah</span> talks it sounds like she's speaking in Russian. In those moments I really wish I had taken the time to learned to speak Russian so we might have a chance at understanding each other.</span><br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-66798021584481338952010-04-05T21:00:00.000-07:002010-04-05T21:19:11.039-07:00Ranch Day<div style="text-align: center;">While our chicken was becoming cat chow we were off enjoying a day at the Hamilton Ranch. Thanks Carol, Henry and family for the fun times!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEici09L-KyqCCGqx1TrlF_ANsbDWTe2FpUhYWyK-3Ym-4Fsd4zuo1VdHtljEBzpUWpAeJ_fujgT3RTl7dQB44tQryC0RlSO3S8nghAky46zhcWCEUUZYmQkB_BrZ6Vbxw5BMcvshBkcuOY/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEici09L-KyqCCGqx1TrlF_ANsbDWTe2FpUhYWyK-3Ym-4Fsd4zuo1VdHtljEBzpUWpAeJ_fujgT3RTl7dQB44tQryC0RlSO3S8nghAky46zhcWCEUUZYmQkB_BrZ6Vbxw5BMcvshBkcuOY/s400/DSC_0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456871547608518274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPH2qSZAM_tCGE63TqXmxcduEBHQDSCl3S3-5MWbwP_ILBPJ_nzw1A4qLeKxCbAtqtCbUT9y-5jb6ab4WCzCOx7oKHx2a2a_e8ZZqhPmUh7g-U0YWk5TqdX0hDfpkbc1H0NwyeCbzn9uo/s1600/DSC_0022.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPH2qSZAM_tCGE63TqXmxcduEBHQDSCl3S3-5MWbwP_ILBPJ_nzw1A4qLeKxCbAtqtCbUT9y-5jb6ab4WCzCOx7oKHx2a2a_e8ZZqhPmUh7g-U0YWk5TqdX0hDfpkbc1H0NwyeCbzn9uo/s400/DSC_0022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456870627346628386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9g4V-_kBlB6_Vb74lBecVdI1S0lXZe3nF2td-POxTTnvl4vh6G5dY5lrz0HMp1bc7PdS43egtbNrf21IaXzT9BpLDTn6MhXLi_noaGmy7c8OrjSKitlCvRvX7QhdQCIKvaaHUvOCaDIE/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 425px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9g4V-_kBlB6_Vb74lBecVdI1S0lXZe3nF2td-POxTTnvl4vh6G5dY5lrz0HMp1bc7PdS43egtbNrf21IaXzT9BpLDTn6MhXLi_noaGmy7c8OrjSKitlCvRvX7QhdQCIKvaaHUvOCaDIE/s400/DSC_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456871978683131426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZzJhXkXbZC0BGNnYuDTfeciaQipQyQqrHM_7VeFwdtrF8LnKr4OP4ml-fkGt19XlbEzIUekBN-WFVGscaWT2S4J46mRs13xPRJspqvUhqg38PGxOJzFvr4h6EoDm-tpGhTPGn7MYiaA/s1600/DSC_0018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 423px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZzJhXkXbZC0BGNnYuDTfeciaQipQyQqrHM_7VeFwdtrF8LnKr4OP4ml-fkGt19XlbEzIUekBN-WFVGscaWT2S4J46mRs13xPRJspqvUhqg38PGxOJzFvr4h6EoDm-tpGhTPGn7MYiaA/s400/DSC_0018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456869826888063586" border="0" /></a>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-31092680018407016402010-04-04T20:56:00.000-07:002010-04-04T21:00:19.802-07:00Bonding Time<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcjECSI56hdHcoi01FSaXcxJQadqNQM-fI6kXLb1YdGbd-zKfznT_vWhHofcuWJT7S5qVZ2IkFnhrYX_1uWSFHDVBsOMnWTUHTGi4tiqub9NM_IMIFTAwxoW0vBg0DdmL5AjBv55L_x4/s1600/DSC_0124.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcjECSI56hdHcoi01FSaXcxJQadqNQM-fI6kXLb1YdGbd-zKfznT_vWhHofcuWJT7S5qVZ2IkFnhrYX_1uWSFHDVBsOMnWTUHTGi4tiqub9NM_IMIFTAwxoW0vBg0DdmL5AjBv55L_x4/s400/DSC_0124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456497838827331554" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">In truth, he's holding that stick in the hopes that he will be able to mesmerize Hayden into staying still for 2 seconds while I snap a picture.</span><br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-21683334482769703352010-04-03T20:48:00.000-07:002010-04-03T20:54:41.540-07:00Life with Chicks: One DownWhelp, it has happened. The cats got one of the chickens and ate it for dinner while we were enjoying some time out with friends.<br /><br />Before we left, knowing we would be gone for 2 or 3 hours I thought to myself, should I put these chickens back in their stinky box in the garage, or should I allow them the pleasure of a few more hours of fresh air?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Life Lesson #15: Better to spend a few extra hours in a stinky box than to become a cat snack.</span>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-4881548370675528422010-04-01T19:29:00.000-07:002010-04-01T19:43:37.954-07:00Life with Chicks: Still AliveWe've had the chickens for a few weeks now, and miraculously they're all still alive. I say "miraculously" because last week Hayden tried to play softball with them and almost broke one of their legs. I actually thought he broke it because the bird didn't move for a few days, but now I can't tell which one got hit, so I think they're all fine.<br /><br />New House Rule: No playing catch with the birds.<br /><br />That said, the chickens are easy to care for, and hardier than I thought. Hayden has been quite rough with them despite repeated time-outs, spankings and conversations about why we shouldn't be rough with the chicks i.e. "they will die!" I realized before I got them that it would be a challenge to keep them alive around Hayden. He doesn't have mean intent, but he really likes to play rough. What I didn't count on though was how badly they would smell. I now know why birds are called Fowl. The stench emanating from our garage at this time can be described using words such as: Special, Unbelievable, Disgusting, and FOWL. I never realized they could smell this badly. I gotta say I'm really looking forward to getting them out of the garage in into the farthest corner of the back yard so I don't have to vomit in my mouth every time i feed them. Even I who claim little to no sense of smell can smell more of these birds than I ever cared too.<br /><br />I wish it had been possible to buy full grown egg layers. That would have made my life much easier. But I guess this way Hayden is "bonding" with them.Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513390436169074772.post-81009399971255252202010-03-31T20:09:00.000-07:002010-03-31T20:17:12.416-07:00Conversations with a Three Year Old: Garbage<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KU096NPNEget-aykAXQqakHgQpKNuljK4swkrvRs8gFMqy72PhDh-7cOPWkOGeryuXrhQgF6piDjSFwlIDYOefPJDSUYeCmJVRQ17rQGPmssp20qcBS8Ia2Fi8DFjG6AAB0nSN3oE-A/s1600/DSC_0062.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KU096NPNEget-aykAXQqakHgQpKNuljK4swkrvRs8gFMqy72PhDh-7cOPWkOGeryuXrhQgF6piDjSFwlIDYOefPJDSUYeCmJVRQ17rQGPmssp20qcBS8Ia2Fi8DFjG6AAB0nSN3oE-A/s400/DSC_0062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455002551213936162" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Me: "Hayden, please pick up those raisins that you dropped on the floor and put them in the trash."<br /><br />Hayden: "Okay!"<br /><br />Me: "Where are the raisins?"<br /><br />Hayden: "I put them in the trash can in my mouth."<br /></div>Life With Kidshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12316883502105659986noreply@blogger.com3