tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85303713367411649782024-03-13T08:21:49.579-07:00My Kids Are Better Than Yoursmseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-20575544515772633422013-01-19T19:42:00.000-08:002013-01-19T19:43:08.537-08:00My Kid Turned 4...10 Days Ago...And I'm just Now Writing About ItDon't worry. We did celebrate said birthday, but I've been too exhausted/busy to post about it. Luckily I was in the 4-year-old's room tonight and stepped on one of the 150 toys on her floor and wrenched my back, so I am a prisoner in this chair. Instead of putting up the 800 baskets of laundry in my room like I should be, I'm stuck, immobile and in pain.<br />
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Her birthday was on a Wednesday which is a terrible day for a birthday, but we did dine on her favorite food, which happens to be my least favorite (McDonald's) and had some cupcakes. Then the following Saturday we had the fam up for a real cake and pizza, and on Sunday we took our buddy from across the street with us to Monkey Joe's and Skateland. In our house, birthdays are a multi-day extravaganza, so those little punks hopefully appreciate that fact. We're certainly spoiling them for their future significant others.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Looks like we got a badass over here. Look who decided to lace up some skates with the kids.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Random pic of Sophie. She matched up her figures with their corresponding Play Doh colors.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Birthday lunch</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">She's fussing because I'm taking a picture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">If looks could kill.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Crazy eyes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Vic is trying to be sweet. Can you see Sophie cringing?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I promise Trev was here. He was off to the side as usual.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">She lets her Daddy take good pictures. Brat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Playing with Papa.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It's exhausting being the center of attention.</span></div>
<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-42655902349063035662013-01-06T10:45:00.001-08:002013-01-06T10:46:42.277-08:00Catching up (Warning: A Ton of Pictures)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
With the holidays and the new job, I don't have much time to keep up with this blog, so let me sum up the past couple of weeks. After Christmas Wesley and I went to Tampa for the Outback Bowl to watch my team (and now employer) kick Michigan's ass. Tampa is a shit stain, and I never want to return, but luckily Wesley and I have the best time when we're in horrible places. This was the longest we had been away from the kids, but thankfully I have amazing in-laws that always take really good care of the little monsters, so we didn't worry a bit about them. I missed them terribly on New Year's Eve, but shortly after we had them back, they were fussing and fighting, making me long for the days in God's butthole where there were homeless people on every street corner, and the path to anywhere led straight through the ghetto. We seriously passed a guy on the corner rolling a joint out in the open.</div>
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The Tampa pics are backwards, as in the most recent are first. I was too lazy to put them in order, so think of this like Memento, but not interesting or suspenseful. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> I'm in front of the Tampa Bay Buc's pirate ship doing my best Captain Morgan's impression.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Tailgating before the game, which for us involves drinking sodas and eating Subway. Wooo party.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">This dick showed up to my game supporting the arch enemy. His game was playing at the same time, so he claims he had to show support.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Luckily my sister gave me a bowl game shirt, and unluckily the hubs and I are the same size, so I wasn't embarrassed to be seen with the enemy. Just look at that face of contempt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Oasis Rules! This was in the Hard Rock Casino. The hubs, my sis, and I are probably the only remaining fans.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ghostbusters slot. You would think as much love as I have given Bill Murray over the years, this thing would have paid out. But no.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">My first time in a casino, and boy do I look like it. We look like the 2 biggest losers, but I can assure you, we were surrounded by many people much more pathetic, old, or whorey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">At Clearwater Beach, the one place where I was pretty sure we wouldn't get raped and/or murdered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Wow, Guy Pearce really let himself go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Our first night was spent in Savannah, since I've lived in SC my entire life and never been. I can safely say while it was beautiful, I don't feel the need to go back. We go to Charleston every year, so yeah, it really is basically the same thing.</span></div>
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Since this was the first weekend we had with the kids since Christmas, we spent time letting the kids enjoy their bikes. And I took a ridiculous amount of pictures with my fancy new to me camera.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Finally riding a bike with 2 wheels. Better later than never.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Look at that face. Always so suspicious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Always picture perfect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">She spent most of the time collecting rocks and talking to them like they were people. I don't even know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Probably one of the best pictures of her ever. I guess the stars aligned at this moment, because when she saw this later, her response was, "I told you I didn't want any pictures!"</span></div>
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mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-12152096942553287332012-12-26T18:20:00.003-08:002012-12-26T19:05:18.313-08:00The Most Wonderful Time of the YearFor me Christmas usually involves a ridiculous amount of planning and obsession regarding food, presents, decorating, etc. But this year with the new job happening right after Thanksgiving, I found myself in the same situation as the typical male population- last minute shopping the week before Christmas and no meal planning whatsoever. Normally I would have stressed myself into a bleeding ulcer in a situation like this, but my job is now occupying the part of my pea brain that would otherwise have caused me a stroke. It was oddly relaxing this year to not have the time or energy to devote to the holidays like I have the past couple of years. I found myself only getting the kids exactly what I planned to get them instead of buying a ridiculous amount of toys they don't want or need because I found a good deal or wanted to make things even or whatever asshole excuse I had in the past. And because I didn't have time to plan an elaborate meal, we ended up having chili on Christmas Eve and breakfast casseroles Christmas morning. And I didn't have to cook either one. The hubs loves proving that his chili is the world's best, and my sister took over breakfast duty, so I could help play Santa. The most amazing thing I noticed this year is that if I just chill the hell out for a minute, the hubs is more than willing to step up to the plate and help out. He wrapped presents, went shopping, put things together, decorated, etc. Not that he doesn't ordinarily do this stuff, but I usually don't give him the chance to do anything, and then I unload on him when my stress hits threat level midnight. It was a very peaceful Christmas especially by our standards, and I really enjoyed it. And now that it's over, I'm looking forward to our adults only trip to Tampa to watch my Gamecocks play in the Outback bowl. Go Cocks!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dinner with the Griswolds</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Making" cookies for Santa</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">By the time Grandma's presents were added, the room was filled. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">QC'ing the cookies</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Putting cookies and milk out for Santa and water for the Reindeer</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Final look at the gifts before bedtime</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Excited to go to bed for once.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Santa was super nice this year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bike gang</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Checking to see if the milk and cookies were gone. Santa left a note, but it was really hard for him to sign his name in glitter, so you couldn't really tell it was from him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">What every 10yo needs- Family Guy merch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">So over the camera.</span></div>
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mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-66130051742503565142012-12-16T19:18:00.000-08:002012-12-16T19:20:21.924-08:00Thankful and BlessedI kept my babies extra close this weekend, after the tragedy in Newtown, CT. We took them to McDonald's for dinner on Friday, and I slept with Sophie while Wesley slept with Vic. I'm sure this event has shaken every parent to their core, since this was one of the safest places to raise children, and no one could have predicted such a horrific event. My heart goes out to the parents who lost little ones and those who will comfort the survivors. I am amazed at the heroic behavior displayed by the staff at the school, and it was clear that they did what they could to protect these babies. Because that's what they were. Just little babies. The silver lining (and it's nearly impossible to find one) is that this event brought us all closer and reminded us how lucky we are to have one another.<br />
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This weekend I scheduled a <a href="http://www.scrm.org/" target="_blank">Santa train ride</a> for the kids. I wish I had known before the ride how averse they would all be to meeting Ol' St. Nick. I knew Sophie would be clamoring for the exits, but I didn't anticipate Trevor closing up the hood of his jacket and pretending to be asleep while Victoria was begging to sit away from the aisle when the jolly fat man entered our car. When he approached, Sophie flung herself across my lap toward the window. Trevor and Victoria were concerned enough that their Christmas presents were on the line that they overcame their shyness long enough to make sure Santa knew what to bring them. I won't even discuss the podunkness of this operation, which at one point took us through the backside of a trailer park. Overall, it was a cute idea, and the kids got to ride on a real train.<br />
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Then it was time for Trev's friend's birthday party. He had it at a skating rink, so we decided to take the girls as well. It was the 2nd time the big kids have gone skating and the first for Sophie, so it was an amazing feat that we escaped with no broken bones. Sophie had a blast and apparently is a little daredevil as she repeatedly tried to skate across the rink instead of around it and kept trying to jump in her skates. They were exhausted by the time we got home.<br />
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The entire weekend I was consumed with thoughts about the families in CT that did not get to wake up next to beautiful sleeping faces. There is nothing to be said to rationalize an event like this. There is no "everything happens for a reason" mentality to be had here. All we can do is hold each other a little closer, love each other a little more, and cherish the time we have together, because regardless of when it's over, it's never long enough.<br />
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-37492076349855462082012-11-20T11:42:00.001-08:002012-11-20T11:43:23.607-08:00Sliding DoorsThis past weekend, we took the boy to his first football game. Well, technically he went to a Georgia game last year with the hubs and his Papa, but I don't count that, because it was Georgia, and they don't count. So on Saturday the hubs and I took him to his first REAL football game. We left the girls with the grandparents from Saturday morning until Sunday afternoon, so it was the first time in 7 years that it was just us and him. I mean, we've taken turns with each kid, making sure they have a day with one or the other of us, but never both of us together. And I have to say it was surreal, and, dare I say it, magical. It was incredibly peaceful- no arguing, yelling, or screaming for an entire day. It was a glimpse into the life we could have had if we had just stopped with one. And I loved every second of it. I know that sounds horrible, but my God are the girls loud. One in particular, who's name rhymes with Schmictoria, is the loudest person known to man, so it was nice not to have my eardrums rattled for a day. That's it, though. Just a day, because that tiny glimpse into what could have been was enough to realize I would be bored with that life. Trevor is 10 now, and he doesn't need me as much, which would be devastating if I didn't have the two girls behind him to keep me hopping. I am happy that he finally had us to himself after all of these years, because he's an amazing kid and needs to be doted upon and appreciated from time to time. He definitely gets lost in the shuffle, since he's the oldest.<br />
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Cocky</div>
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Phone camera sucks, but if you look in the center, that little guy is Steve Spurrier. I didn't even know he was walking by, because I saw all of the humongous football players. I got this shot by chance.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tgVcRJg65Kk/UKvaQZIi0II/AAAAAAAABE0/N6IW4Jqogbc/s1600/2012-11-17_12-17-32_148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tgVcRJg65Kk/UKvaQZIi0II/AAAAAAAABE0/N6IW4Jqogbc/s320/2012-11-17_12-17-32_148.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Nosebleed</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4x5ncOE8RKQ/UKvaeZBeRrI/AAAAAAAABFA/FRSV_TlFpH8/s1600/2012-11-17_12-31-01_831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4x5ncOE8RKQ/UKvaeZBeRrI/AAAAAAAABFA/FRSV_TlFpH8/s320/2012-11-17_12-31-01_831.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Little Red Riding Hood. This mofo talked me out of wearing a jacket, because I layered a jersey over a long sleeve tee. Meanwhile these two Nancy's were wearing jackets in 50 degree windy weather.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FgNAAYwsAWI/UKvarZql59I/AAAAAAAABFI/3eGDxV82aVQ/s1600/2012-11-17_12-31-25_614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FgNAAYwsAWI/UKvarZql59I/AAAAAAAABFI/3eGDxV82aVQ/s320/2012-11-17_12-31-25_614.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Weiners</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3kk32vwOKAw/UKva26kD9qI/AAAAAAAABFQ/tBSaWeRVrtE/s1600/2012-11-17_13-03-11_586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3kk32vwOKAw/UKva26kD9qI/AAAAAAAABFQ/tBSaWeRVrtE/s320/2012-11-17_13-03-11_586.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The band lining up for 2001. If you don't know what that is, Youtube it. It's the best part of seeing a game live.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LRRYXwlY0_c/UKva7EdwM2I/AAAAAAAABFY/fpx4IBdVRFg/s1600/132063_4565679591691_66458456_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LRRYXwlY0_c/UKva7EdwM2I/AAAAAAAABFY/fpx4IBdVRFg/s320/132063_4565679591691_66458456_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Military appreciation. They had jets fly over as well, and they were right above us, since we were so high up. It was super loud and almost gave the boy a heart attack.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OClhrCk8scc/UKva8PvItTI/AAAAAAAABFg/bJ4jp2HyA3k/s1600/558850_4577863536282_7145971_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OClhrCk8scc/UKva8PvItTI/AAAAAAAABFg/bJ4jp2HyA3k/s320/558850_4577863536282_7145971_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-73691048686014004662012-11-04T10:21:00.001-08:002012-11-04T16:12:42.198-08:00Halloween PicsI would love to write something clever and snarky, but I'm pretty sure I'm about 3 seconds from coming down with the flu. The girls both have it, and my immune system rivals that of an AIDS patient, so it's only a matter of time. Plus I'm a big ol' hypochondriac anyway, so I'm over here molesting my neck to feel for swollen glands, checking my temperature, and documenting every sniffle and sneeze. So while I'm over here dying, enjoy pics of the people that put me in this situation. Germ factories with legs.<br />
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First up: the Pumpkin Patch</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O7bfU9wkdtE/UJaZ5Xy8xDI/AAAAAAAAA80/AJeer614AWM/s1600/2012-10-25_15-31-54_333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O7bfU9wkdtE/UJaZ5Xy8xDI/AAAAAAAAA80/AJeer614AWM/s320/2012-10-25_15-31-54_333.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Sophie up to her same old shit with the camera</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f9H8T9mS_hk/UJaaNIh1jJI/AAAAAAAAA88/BTvKSVYkz9w/s1600/2012-10-25_15-31-58_869+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f9H8T9mS_hk/UJaaNIh1jJI/AAAAAAAAA88/BTvKSVYkz9w/s320/2012-10-25_15-31-58_869+(1).jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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She wanted to pull the wagon</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y8-eFrWMYPc/UJaaa-i9jiI/AAAAAAAAA9I/dEAmUcAgnuA/s1600/2012-10-25_15-32-48_41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y8-eFrWMYPc/UJaaa-i9jiI/AAAAAAAAA9I/dEAmUcAgnuA/s320/2012-10-25_15-32-48_41.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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This kid and his expressions. He cracks me up.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sop_wBX6vzM/UJaauSlHrqI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/q8UxSjMZ4Ag/s1600/2012-10-25_15-33-10_764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sop_wBX6vzM/UJaauSlHrqI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/q8UxSjMZ4Ag/s320/2012-10-25_15-33-10_764.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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I think she can totally pull off the cowgirl look.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBWFEqLAc3s/UJabBxW7qPI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/LEqvbXJ_dlc/s1600/2012-10-25_15-34-44_250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pBWFEqLAc3s/UJabBxW7qPI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/LEqvbXJ_dlc/s320/2012-10-25_15-34-44_250.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U2k_fgbUIxQ/UJabWKrA39I/AAAAAAAAA9g/b4UNH4wsy1c/s1600/2012-10-25_15-34-50_484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U2k_fgbUIxQ/UJabWKrA39I/AAAAAAAAA9g/b4UNH4wsy1c/s320/2012-10-25_15-34-50_484.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Who's missing?</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T2UyUPJr65Q/UJabpus-jII/AAAAAAAAA9s/91lDKK5ZkLk/s1600/2012-10-25_15-44-17_970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T2UyUPJr65Q/UJabpus-jII/AAAAAAAAA9s/91lDKK5ZkLk/s320/2012-10-25_15-44-17_970.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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There she is, being an asshole.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RlTlLYqRv1w/UJabvMXTgWI/AAAAAAAAA90/dGZdTuzRal0/s1600/2012-10-25_15-54-39_996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RlTlLYqRv1w/UJabvMXTgWI/AAAAAAAAA90/dGZdTuzRal0/s320/2012-10-25_15-54-39_996.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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See how she's smiling in this one? You know why? She's banging the shit out of that bucket/pig's nose. I mean hitting it full force, being as loud as possible. Seriously, she's an asshole. That's why she looks so happy.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7g_SF2u2U24/UJab8p-xoWI/AAAAAAAAA98/nQS4g86guY8/s1600/2012-10-25_15-58-16_823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7g_SF2u2U24/UJab8p-xoWI/AAAAAAAAA98/nQS4g86guY8/s320/2012-10-25_15-58-16_823.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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"Oh, I'll pose, but I'm not looking at the camera."</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y8Mn84dPfFA/UJacOicqwYI/AAAAAAAAA-c/OKYv1_Ek9jA/s1600/2012-10-25_15-58-21_833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y8Mn84dPfFA/UJacOicqwYI/AAAAAAAAA-c/OKYv1_Ek9jA/s320/2012-10-25_15-58-21_833.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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"Fine, I'll look at the camera, but my expression will say 'serial killer'".</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2nfLZ9Jli4E/UJacgwbwFvI/AAAAAAAAA-k/udgt0yAumqw/s1600/2012-10-25_15-59-18_670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2nfLZ9Jli4E/UJacgwbwFvI/AAAAAAAAA-k/udgt0yAumqw/s320/2012-10-25_15-59-18_670.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here's the part where I FINALLY got Sophie to agree to a group photo, and Victoria decided it was her turn to give me grief.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4uFfko_pQz8/UJaczCDnZyI/AAAAAAAAA-0/USRRV2bokUs/s1600/2012-10-25_15-59-33_117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4uFfko_pQz8/UJaczCDnZyI/AAAAAAAAA-0/USRRV2bokUs/s320/2012-10-25_15-59-33_117.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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So now they're both making obnoxious faces.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WG4QP49nOxU/UJadEjGzQlI/AAAAAAAAA-8/ge2y4C71DA8/s1600/2012-10-25_15-59-39_320+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WG4QP49nOxU/UJadEjGzQlI/AAAAAAAAA-8/ge2y4C71DA8/s320/2012-10-25_15-59-39_320+(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And it got worse. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HlOu4Px-qVc/UJadqHEKokI/AAAAAAAAA_M/tBBgupw_k3Q/s1600/2012-10-25_16-00-02_671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HlOu4Px-qVc/UJadqHEKokI/AAAAAAAAA_M/tBBgupw_k3Q/s320/2012-10-25_16-00-02_671.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was 2 seconds from murdering someone. 2 out of 3 facing the camera was not enough!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WPLL7Li4UJQ/UJad8NTAIYI/AAAAAAAAA_U/ybh9u4MquyY/s1600/2012-10-25_16-00-06_777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WPLL7Li4UJQ/UJad8NTAIYI/AAAAAAAAA_U/ybh9u4MquyY/s320/2012-10-25_16-00-06_777.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Finally. Now we can go home and carve the pumpkins. Except we didn't. The hubs and I were out of town <a href="http://yomamaissofat.blogspot.com/2012/11/cheater-cheater-pumpkin-eater.html" target="_blank">running a 5k</a>, and then I just didn't feel like it, so I still have 3 humongous uncarved pumpkins sitting on my steps.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-owCs2HQ8FTE/UJaeHkjA1MI/AAAAAAAAA_k/39Ec2baJXxM/s1600/2012-10-25_18-15-52_477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-owCs2HQ8FTE/UJaeHkjA1MI/AAAAAAAAA_k/39Ec2baJXxM/s320/2012-10-25_18-15-52_477.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I didn't carve the pumpkins, but I did make some cute food stuff. This was Shepherd's Pie with ghost mashed potatoes. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CjAz7yG8xNQ/UJaeSUsG3yI/AAAAAAAAA_s/uPz2ZMYIBMo/s1600/2012-10-29_18-02-14_412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CjAz7yG8xNQ/UJaeSUsG3yI/AAAAAAAAA_s/uPz2ZMYIBMo/s320/2012-10-29_18-02-14_412.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Mummy Dogs</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l3N5cnp6U_o/UJafFmiUnKI/AAAAAAAABAg/tMsimSfLpao/s1600/2012-10-30-dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l3N5cnp6U_o/UJafFmiUnKI/AAAAAAAABAg/tMsimSfLpao/s320/2012-10-30-dinner.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Meatloaf Man. This is enough to make me go back to being a vegetarian. It looks nasty, but tastes good. The orange shit is cheese.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg94KENrkCA/UJaefLI5QDI/AAAAAAAAA_0/DXL3cJjGSls/s1600/2012-10-29_19-12-00_652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rg94KENrkCA/UJaefLI5QDI/AAAAAAAAA_0/DXL3cJjGSls/s320/2012-10-29_19-12-00_652.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My in-laws gave the kids a brownie kit, where you make brownies shaped like haunted houses.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U0Z6l5R6LII/UJaerrd6M7I/AAAAAAAAA_8/qIX4ZOBXZ8M/s1600/2012-10-29_19-20-01_382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U0Z6l5R6LII/UJaerrd6M7I/AAAAAAAAA_8/qIX4ZOBXZ8M/s320/2012-10-29_19-20-01_382.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Vic smiling with hers.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5uwJol4J4xE/UJae5MQsDxI/AAAAAAAABAQ/v7rMcgHUE2k/s1600/2012-10-29_19-20-42_591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5uwJol4J4xE/UJae5MQsDxI/AAAAAAAABAQ/v7rMcgHUE2k/s320/2012-10-29_19-20-42_591.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Sophie frowning with hers. Shocker.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DzCLdIR5R3g/UJafEByxPqI/AAAAAAAABAY/jqg5wtLR0ug/s1600/2012-10-29_19-21-02_121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DzCLdIR5R3g/UJafEByxPqI/AAAAAAAABAY/jqg5wtLR0ug/s320/2012-10-29_19-21-02_121.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Trev was too cool to help, but damn if he didn't help eat them.</div>
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And now for the Halloween pics, which made me realize I really really really need a decent camera, not the craptacular one on my phone. Why are pictures so important to me? 2 reasons: 1. I have the memory of an abused dog. I remember something kind of happened before, and for some reason I don't really like you, but I can't remember why, so I keep coming back for more. Pictures allow me to remember exactly how obnoxious the children were, providing years of torment and payback for when they start dating and have children of their own. 2. My baby pics are almost non-existent. I've been told many times that "they do exist, but they're on slides," so I want to make sure my kids have photographic evidence that they existed, they were loved, and that we actually did fun stuff, so I can throw it in their faces when they get old and bitch about their supposedly shitty childhoods.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1vtYT5BTCFo/UJafHxrIDKI/AAAAAAAABAo/GI6O2-WKHOk/s1600/131310_4480370659021_402698158_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1vtYT5BTCFo/UJafHxrIDKI/AAAAAAAABAo/GI6O2-WKHOk/s320/131310_4480370659021_402698158_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Oh My God. Trying to photograph this child is hard enough without her wearing an effing costume that can be seen from space when light hits it. I pouted the first half of trick-or-treating, because of my horrible camera and her lack of cooperation, vowing at one moment never to attempt to photograph her again. That lasted 2 seconds, because seriously, do you see these 2 together? A Firefighter and Policeman. I love them.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-reNl--JC4wQ/UJafJlDVWaI/AAAAAAAABAw/OOd-O4XcDPE/s1600/134599_4480348098457_637629444_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-reNl--JC4wQ/UJafJlDVWaI/AAAAAAAABAw/OOd-O4XcDPE/s320/134599_4480348098457_637629444_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Draculaura with her jacked up makeup. That cheap stuff just didn't cut it. I tried, but it wouldn't smooth out evenly. She was still beautiful, as usual.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a7-jVLDeS1k/UJafLNuotmI/AAAAAAAABA4/Sw40etMcov4/s1600/177054_4480418940228_384479592_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a7-jVLDeS1k/UJafLNuotmI/AAAAAAAABA4/Sw40etMcov4/s320/177054_4480418940228_384479592_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WOX4aHfmCHM/UJafMT8zQ2I/AAAAAAAABBE/rTtbrcZcTeA/s1600/281042_4480417180184_1757512545_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WOX4aHfmCHM/UJafMT8zQ2I/AAAAAAAABBE/rTtbrcZcTeA/s320/281042_4480417180184_1757512545_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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They were holding hands a majority of the night. (Tear)</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AE4_dkKwcnA/UJafQADholI/AAAAAAAABBY/uFjZfjuDc08/s1600/54665_4480352658571_2126745800_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AE4_dkKwcnA/UJafQADholI/AAAAAAAABBY/uFjZfjuDc08/s320/54665_4480352658571_2126745800_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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I was so proud of Trev for being something scary instead of Batman for the bajillionth time. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JZ9A9JjIftE/UJafThTM6sI/AAAAAAAABBo/Vs0SmftMBLA/s1600/664505_4480456981179_884805273_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JZ9A9JjIftE/UJafThTM6sI/AAAAAAAABBo/Vs0SmftMBLA/s320/664505_4480456981179_884805273_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Our last stop was our neighbor's house. It wasn't supposed to be, but they bought candy just for the kids, which means they got a ton of it, so we really didn't need to go to anymore houses. Shortest Halloween Ever!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6FvI7WdJd-8/UJafO9rXkpI/AAAAAAAABBQ/HYFpXP8kE7A/s1600/334323_4480480461766_936532704_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6FvI7WdJd-8/UJafO9rXkpI/AAAAAAAABBQ/HYFpXP8kE7A/s320/334323_4480480461766_936532704_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Look at that face. Jesus. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OHlvGQfmKNc/UJafVpMxC_I/AAAAAAAABBw/G5jqbYVjyP4/s1600/77611_4480477981704_1594902890_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OHlvGQfmKNc/UJafVpMxC_I/AAAAAAAABBw/G5jqbYVjyP4/s320/77611_4480477981704_1594902890_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Trevor looks like he's trying to drop a deuce while Sophie is trying to make my face melt with her brain.</div>
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In addition to the Halloween hoopla, we found out that Victoria's picture is being used on the <a href="https://www.richland2.org/Pages/default.aspx" target="_blank">Richland 2 District website</a>. I don't know how often they change the photos, so here it is:</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y4YLS4YQKaI/UJawDiLqYyI/AAAAAAAABDY/WKKQnelbhRQ/s1600/FormthefieldCollage1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y4YLS4YQKaI/UJawDiLqYyI/AAAAAAAABDY/WKKQnelbhRQ/s400/FormthefieldCollage1.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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They had professional chefs come in a make food for the kids, which I thought was really cool. They were promoting healthy eating, which is a great initiative. </div>
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-56209220405527042992012-10-22T11:40:00.000-07:002012-10-23T05:06:34.635-07:00Father Daughter DanceFriday was the Father Daughter dance at school, and since both girls are now at school, they both got to go with Wesley. From what he tells me, it mostly involved him standing by the wall, holding shoes, while the girls danced with their friends. They each ran into someone from their classes, so they had a good time. While the girls were away, Trevor and I watched a totally inappropriate movie for a 10yo, Scary Movie, and enjoyed the uninterrupted silence.<br />
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I, of course, had to take pictures before the dance, so here's an example of what I have to go through every single time I want to have Sophie in a picture:</div>
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"Girls, I want to take a picture in your dresses before you go."</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P1IgJ_umo2I/UIVit6ENh4I/AAAAAAAAA6U/TBiTceD5sDg/s1600/2012-10-19_18-45-55_907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P1IgJ_umo2I/UIVit6ENh4I/AAAAAAAAA6U/TBiTceD5sDg/s320/2012-10-19_18-45-55_907.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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"Sophie, you're frowning, can we try it again with a smile?"</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w9w_xYRTD64/UIVi_gGec1I/AAAAAAAAA6c/zO8lmnx37ng/s1600/2012-10-19_18-46-02_366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w9w_xYRTD64/UIVi_gGec1I/AAAAAAAAA6c/zO8lmnx37ng/s320/2012-10-19_18-46-02_366.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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"You're still making a weird face, and Victoria, please keep looking at the camera."</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mBHUFDI75eQ/UIVjW4NYvCI/AAAAAAAAA6k/_m_99mUCKpQ/s1600/2012-10-19_18-46-28_705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mBHUFDI75eQ/UIVjW4NYvCI/AAAAAAAAA6k/_m_99mUCKpQ/s320/2012-10-19_18-46-28_705.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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"Seriously, Sophie. Please just smile. I want a nice picture in your dresses."</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8RRnJ1tCD_Y/UIVjv0la1fI/AAAAAAAAA6w/4uX6HAlGLDc/s1600/2012-10-19_18-46-39_380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8RRnJ1tCD_Y/UIVjv0la1fI/AAAAAAAAA6w/4uX6HAlGLDc/s320/2012-10-19_18-46-39_380.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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"Ugh, you both have demon eyes, but you're smiling, so I can deal with it. God I need a real camera. I wish you hadn't broken mine, Sophie." ...And scene.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DH9ysJ8q7fY/UIVkLI9RcGI/AAAAAAAAA64/QIwoqnplrYY/s1600/2012-10-19_18-55-54_50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DH9ysJ8q7fY/UIVkLI9RcGI/AAAAAAAAA64/QIwoqnplrYY/s320/2012-10-19_18-55-54_50.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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And here they are with their handsome and proud daddy. Notice Sophie is still up to shenanigans, not actually smiling. Heifer.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IDD1Y9srUQE/UIVoNCwS6kI/AAAAAAAAA7o/EQCyvsoGc4A/s1600/293738_419832828072387_4632373_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IDD1Y9srUQE/UIVoNCwS6kI/AAAAAAAAA7o/EQCyvsoGc4A/s320/293738_419832828072387_4632373_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Here's the one she took when Wesley asked her nicely to smile for his camera.</div>
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The hubs was able to get a video of Sophie dancing with her friend. She does more for him than me for sure.</div>
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<object height="300" width="175"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"></param>
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In addition to the dance, the kids also had a visit from their <a href="http://thisblogisallaboutme.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Aunt Kathleen</a>, who was kind enough to watch them while the hubs and I did <a href="http://yomamaissofat.blogspot.com/2012/10/color-me-rad.html" target="_blank">Color Me Rad</a>. The race was a blast, and I will definitely take them next year, since I think they're going to make it an annual thing. Kath survived the morning with no major incidents, and I didn't keel over during the race, so it was a success all around.</div>
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mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-67278915047170782172012-10-14T06:04:00.000-07:002012-10-14T06:07:43.284-07:00Blessings CountedYesterday the kids and I had the opportunity to participate in the <a href="http://www.energyforlifewalk.org/faf/home/default.asp?ievent=1027806" target="_blank">Energy for Life walk</a> in Charlotte. It's a walk to benefit people with Mitochondrial Disease, and it was a wonderful chance for the kids to realize how lucky they are, and more importantly for me to realize how lucky I am.<br />
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We went to support my friend's nephew who is 3 days older than Trevor. We got to spend time with a family that basically helped raise me from 8th grade on. My friend passed away when Victoria was about 6 months old, so I haven't seen them in a ridiculously long time (i.e. I had another kid since then), so in addition to supporting a good cause, it was a great opportunity to catch up.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ar3PA_rBKVQ/UHqv92C-hnI/AAAAAAAAA2c/wVsA_GOwOLU/s1600/2012-10-13_10-30-19_587.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ar3PA_rBKVQ/UHqv92C-hnI/AAAAAAAAA2c/wVsA_GOwOLU/s320/2012-10-13_10-30-19_587.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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The little monster refused to pose in this one. I don't want to hear her crap when she's older about not being in any pictures.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qrik6Qd_PbE/UHqwTHGeN5I/AAAAAAAAA2o/gwfs2mA67eE/s1600/2012-10-13_10-32-39_493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qrik6Qd_PbE/UHqwTHGeN5I/AAAAAAAAA2o/gwfs2mA67eE/s320/2012-10-13_10-32-39_493.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--knzQIzYumg/UHqwpiw_2iI/AAAAAAAAA2w/nIxqjZbIRiM/s1600/2012-10-13_10-32-44_84.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--knzQIzYumg/UHqwpiw_2iI/AAAAAAAAA2w/nIxqjZbIRiM/s320/2012-10-13_10-32-44_84.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sf_MWICb7dU/UHqw-C52nRI/AAAAAAAAA24/fB2n9Ra0Mec/s1600/2012-10-13_10-34-31_981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sf_MWICb7dU/UHqw-C52nRI/AAAAAAAAA24/fB2n9Ra0Mec/s320/2012-10-13_10-34-31_981.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Sharon (Ben's mom), Ben, and Mr. Williams (my bonus dad). Ben did so well yesterday, walking a majority of the time. It's amazing to see how far he's come. His parents are amazing people.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k8B57FEJYnU/UHqxEU2Q15I/AAAAAAAAA3A/esAxVnCKASQ/s1600/2012-10-13_10-40-58_265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k8B57FEJYnU/UHqxEU2Q15I/AAAAAAAAA3A/esAxVnCKASQ/s320/2012-10-13_10-40-58_265.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was a Fire Truck, and that's Sophie's new obsession, so she and I broke off from the walk to visit the Firemen. They let us sit up in the truck. Sidenote: I'm too short to be a Fire Fighter, because I barely was able to get into the truck.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0CyUCikXOE/UHqxNAsQUOI/AAAAAAAAA3I/mhar1IoYa3k/s1600/2012-10-13_10-41-43_252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0CyUCikXOE/UHqxNAsQUOI/AAAAAAAAA3I/mhar1IoYa3k/s320/2012-10-13_10-41-43_252.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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Sophie was supposed to be in front of this but refused.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vz0exCmDphU/UHqxVpX2mOI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/I6KXxUNAK6c/s1600/2012-10-13_10-42-35_857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vz0exCmDphU/UHqxVpX2mOI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/I6KXxUNAK6c/s320/2012-10-13_10-42-35_857.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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She's not smiling. She's analyzing the gauges on the side of the truck, and I happened to snap it at the right time.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LaRx02MLziU/UHqxzrtqyiI/AAAAAAAAA3c/6ondW2NOYws/s1600/2012-10-13_11-03-55_781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LaRx02MLziU/UHqxzrtqyiI/AAAAAAAAA3c/6ondW2NOYws/s320/2012-10-13_11-03-55_781.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was a big hill at the park, so naturally the kids had to roll down it.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lb8resWtSP0/UHqyLVdoqWI/AAAAAAAAA3k/rflY97pPfjs/s1600/2012-10-13_11-05-15_775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lb8resWtSP0/UHqyLVdoqWI/AAAAAAAAA3k/rflY97pPfjs/s320/2012-10-13_11-05-15_775.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I love this one, because they all look ridiculous.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fvw1uruDGJI/UHqyfFehaaI/AAAAAAAAA3s/YX5m6G9l608/s1600/2012-10-13_11-05-39_282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fvw1uruDGJI/UHqyfFehaaI/AAAAAAAAA3s/YX5m6G9l608/s320/2012-10-13_11-05-39_282.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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I was allowed to take this one. Note: she's still not looking at the camera.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qNrpQ8j-wWI/UHqyyZDWQeI/AAAAAAAAA30/00qfyb63fM8/s1600/2012-10-13_11-15-48_992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qNrpQ8j-wWI/UHqyyZDWQeI/AAAAAAAAA30/00qfyb63fM8/s320/2012-10-13_11-15-48_992.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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On the playground, they have an old train engine the kids can play in. Very cool.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R1_MCcJp1Ow/UHqzCnEv7_I/AAAAAAAAA4A/1kZJ0ahU9jk/s1600/2012-10-13_11-17-21_851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R1_MCcJp1Ow/UHqzCnEv7_I/AAAAAAAAA4A/1kZJ0ahU9jk/s320/2012-10-13_11-17-21_851.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xpOCRMUJbak/UHqzRAa94QI/AAAAAAAAA4I/Bj7AK_HHnZM/s1600/2012-10-13_11-17-41_410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xpOCRMUJbak/UHqzRAa94QI/AAAAAAAAA4I/Bj7AK_HHnZM/s320/2012-10-13_11-17-41_410.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-74890513352872274212012-10-01T14:10:00.000-07:002012-10-01T14:14:24.676-07:00Happy Birthweek Victoria<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Only Victoria can manage to drag out her birthday celebration for a week. Last Tuesday, Grandma came to visit, followed by a visit from Nana and Papa on Saturday, a trip to Carowinds yesterday, and a day at the movies today while her brother and sister had to go to school. I'd have to say it's been a good birthday for her. It's #7, which sounds so much older than 6 for some reason. She's a little girl- no more baby left in her at all.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Dc445FL2xs/UGmtS3igWsI/AAAAAAAAAvI/2HQlyJH5zqk/s1600/2012-09-30_12-46-02_963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Dc445FL2xs/UGmtS3igWsI/AAAAAAAAAvI/2HQlyJH5zqk/s320/2012-09-30_12-46-02_963.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Vic with Aunt Kathleen, who made it possible for the hubs to actually ride some adult rides for once.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xS-xC_f1qY0/UGmtcI8KQZI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/vA5kdajmhjQ/s1600/2012-09-30_12-46-17_476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xS-xC_f1qY0/UGmtcI8KQZI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/vA5kdajmhjQ/s320/2012-09-30_12-46-17_476.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sophie riding on something she was technically too short to ride. She had a blast.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iZkbFo-wb24/UGmttYw4YlI/AAAAAAAAAvY/RJNS9ho1700/s1600/2012-09-30_12-46-51_501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iZkbFo-wb24/UGmttYw4YlI/AAAAAAAAAvY/RJNS9ho1700/s320/2012-09-30_12-46-51_501.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Trev and yours truly</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HnycTOsnegs/UGmt9qvWruI/AAAAAAAAAvg/AJ2VMpbN0ig/s1600/2012-09-30_12-52-15_976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HnycTOsnegs/UGmt9qvWruI/AAAAAAAAAvg/AJ2VMpbN0ig/s320/2012-09-30_12-52-15_976.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sophie and Linus, BeBe buddies</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ghv-lPJBxyA/UGmuNzam1gI/AAAAAAAAAvo/zM0N3IWV-qk/s1600/2012-09-30_12-52-21_746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ghv-lPJBxyA/UGmuNzam1gI/AAAAAAAAAvo/zM0N3IWV-qk/s320/2012-09-30_12-52-21_746.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Vic and Linus</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fepiT0tD-Jg/UGmuWhtgyAI/AAAAAAAAAvw/XcJWt2ZXnb0/s1600/2012-09-30_12-59-50_503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fepiT0tD-Jg/UGmuWhtgyAI/AAAAAAAAAvw/XcJWt2ZXnb0/s320/2012-09-30_12-59-50_503.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQWDiVh9Eo/UGmukSt9v8I/AAAAAAAAAv8/n0tMY0u7os4/s1600/2012-09-30_13-01-03_62.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rPQWDiVh9Eo/UGmukSt9v8I/AAAAAAAAAv8/n0tMY0u7os4/s320/2012-09-30_13-01-03_62.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DcbyGVkZC74/UGmuzYTxB-I/AAAAAAAAAwE/JY_YQFqjSuM/s1600/2012-09-30_13-04-52_29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DcbyGVkZC74/UGmuzYTxB-I/AAAAAAAAAwE/JY_YQFqjSuM/s320/2012-09-30_13-04-52_29.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The real Charlie Brown (aka Trev) decided to sit this one out.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9JOJKPilDQI/UGmvBJdkT8I/AAAAAAAAAwM/vAlaR460OfQ/s1600/2012-09-30_13-05-38_967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9JOJKPilDQI/UGmvBJdkT8I/AAAAAAAAAwM/vAlaR460OfQ/s320/2012-09-30_13-05-38_967.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f961gqBUqfE/UGmvRScCe7I/AAAAAAAAAwU/f2VFtMPFBdY/s1600/2012-09-30_13-12-08_660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f961gqBUqfE/UGmvRScCe7I/AAAAAAAAAwU/f2VFtMPFBdY/s320/2012-09-30_13-12-08_660.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I was trying to snap this pic behind me, because Soph and I were in front of them. I don't know what Vic is doing.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9aV5thzltfg/UGmvcBQpT8I/AAAAAAAAAwc/mA3wsqsLiUU/s1600/2012-09-30_13-13-28_689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9aV5thzltfg/UGmvcBQpT8I/AAAAAAAAAwc/mA3wsqsLiUU/s320/2012-09-30_13-13-28_689.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sophie's expression at the top of the hill on the Woodstock Express (aka the Scooby Doo roller coaster before the name change.) She loved the rides. She is such a little daredevil.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHU6GyffqQ4/UGmvqPkwA9I/AAAAAAAAAwk/skd-Ez7o8bw/s1600/2012-09-30_13-35-17_685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHU6GyffqQ4/UGmvqPkwA9I/AAAAAAAAAwk/skd-Ez7o8bw/s320/2012-09-30_13-35-17_685.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I think this was the only time Victoria rode with me. Most of the time she hung with her big brother.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L8S2DhJze3o/UGmv5se0zZI/AAAAAAAAAww/H1siMotJ2l0/s1600/2012-09-30_13-45-11_700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L8S2DhJze3o/UGmv5se0zZI/AAAAAAAAAww/H1siMotJ2l0/s320/2012-09-30_13-45-11_700.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">This is quite a special shot in that not one of them was looking at the camera. It takes a true talent to capture something like this.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1TbPannvcG0/UGmv9gsFLLI/AAAAAAAAAw4/FMA5KmhuyII/s1600/2012-09-30_14-03-12_396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1TbPannvcG0/UGmv9gsFLLI/AAAAAAAAAw4/FMA5KmhuyII/s320/2012-09-30_14-03-12_396.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5a2mToGDcfA/UGmwPCnMZAI/AAAAAAAAAxA/cM6aBoSmFzU/s1600/2012-09-30_15-41-00_193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5a2mToGDcfA/UGmwPCnMZAI/AAAAAAAAAxA/cM6aBoSmFzU/s320/2012-09-30_15-41-00_193.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Standing on the rails for the billionth time after being told repeatedly not to.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G0KcJUl4CiM/UGmwc9SPqdI/AAAAAAAAAxI/QzzJ0YiFBIo/s1600/2012-09-30_16-02-27_609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G0KcJUl4CiM/UGmwc9SPqdI/AAAAAAAAAxI/QzzJ0YiFBIo/s320/2012-09-30_16-02-27_609.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I swear trying to get this girl to smile is impossible.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sAJSvnr7e74/UGmwo0M-D7I/AAAAAAAAAxQ/uoJg0ffivOs/s1600/2012-09-30_16-18-28_839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sAJSvnr7e74/UGmwo0M-D7I/AAAAAAAAAxQ/uoJg0ffivOs/s320/2012-09-30_16-18-28_839.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">My sister and me before she dragged me on to a roller coaster with multiple loops, twists, and turns, which successfully relocated all of the fluid in my head, causing nausea every time I got on a ride from that point on.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-smpau1Oicl8/UGoDByOiZCI/AAAAAAAAAy0/dgPch1SkDWY/s1600/IMG_1108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-smpau1Oicl8/UGoDByOiZCI/AAAAAAAAAy0/dgPch1SkDWY/s320/IMG_1108.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Victoria and her alter ego</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9O-dMK5-uo/UGoDSVywRcI/AAAAAAAAAzE/XpgIpLRTZiY/s1600/IMG_1111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9O-dMK5-uo/UGoDSVywRcI/AAAAAAAAAzE/XpgIpLRTZiY/s320/IMG_1111.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Daddy and Sophie</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0bQTJ3Y86ko/UGoDe0yjujI/AAAAAAAAAzM/k-OmLF7dbW4/s1600/IMG_1112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0bQTJ3Y86ko/UGoDe0yjujI/AAAAAAAAAzM/k-OmLF7dbW4/s320/IMG_1112.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_fh0_nj7a6c/UGoDrufdUSI/AAAAAAAAAzU/SiUleggGrs8/s1600/IMG_1114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_fh0_nj7a6c/UGoDrufdUSI/AAAAAAAAAzU/SiUleggGrs8/s320/IMG_1114.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">We snuck this one on a ride, too, and you can see how delighted she was.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0kdTQ-YXBO4/UGoD42pnBAI/AAAAAAAAAzc/OUM1IvTgnnA/s1600/IMG_1115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0kdTQ-YXBO4/UGoD42pnBAI/AAAAAAAAAzc/OUM1IvTgnnA/s320/IMG_1115.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Fam</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwuQrVTNYq4/UGmw4nazGmI/AAAAAAAAAxY/ECgmuzlicTM/s1600/2012-09-30_18-39-07_612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZwuQrVTNYq4/UGmw4nazGmI/AAAAAAAAAxY/ECgmuzlicTM/s320/2012-09-30_18-39-07_612.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Jack In The Box for dinner. The kids were so exhausted.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Da1y2-I0CRM/UGn_BrKYxJI/AAAAAAAAAyI/Wuh2pRDiA0w/s1600/77890_4334372729164_885246262_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Da1y2-I0CRM/UGn_BrKYxJI/AAAAAAAAAyI/Wuh2pRDiA0w/s320/77890_4334372729164_885246262_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The birthday girl this morning</span></div>
mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-40277755056435814342012-09-16T06:19:00.000-07:002012-09-16T06:21:36.332-07:00Why I Married HimSometimes that guy I married is hilarious.<br />
<object height="550" width="288"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"></param>
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<embed src="https://www.facebook.com/v/407319359323734" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="1" width="288" height="550"></embed></object>mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-17521810726844718442012-09-16T06:15:00.000-07:002012-09-16T06:15:57.689-07:00Greek FestivalWe went to the Greek Festival yesterday, and the kids seemed to have a good time...well, except for the sulky 10yo, who had his fill of Greek music and watching his sisters dance. The children ate chicken fingers and fries, because you know how the Greeks are famous for those. Wesley and I had the souvlaki (pork skewers amazingly seasoned) and Greek potatoes, which were delicious. I was trying to be good to make up for <a href="http://yomamaissofat.blogspot.com/2012/09/my-body-is-wonderland.html" target="_blank">recent indiscretions</a>, so I didn't try the Baklava sundae, or the Greek donuts, much to my stomach's disappointment.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7dV3rogdpvA/UFXPdoKKnWI/AAAAAAAAAtc/Je_3-jCiqr8/s1600/132829_4271339833381_739286426_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7dV3rogdpvA/UFXPdoKKnWI/AAAAAAAAAtc/Je_3-jCiqr8/s320/132829_4271339833381_739286426_o.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kKU4B9XwMFg/UFXPe4zOlOI/AAAAAAAAAtk/tfdovZeZEak/s1600/244254_4268736168291_1171756654_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kKU4B9XwMFg/UFXPe4zOlOI/AAAAAAAAAtk/tfdovZeZEak/s320/244254_4268736168291_1171756654_o.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ej9xDdFknWo/UFXPf5P6qAI/AAAAAAAAAts/KaFjTA4XHpQ/s1600/246608_4268751288669_591836053_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ej9xDdFknWo/UFXPf5P6qAI/AAAAAAAAAts/KaFjTA4XHpQ/s320/246608_4268751288669_591836053_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KpXwr5Fp8Gk/UFXPiJ6gblI/AAAAAAAAAt0/uOHUPG5bjZM/s1600/258762_4268968734105_148192655_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KpXwr5Fp8Gk/UFXPiJ6gblI/AAAAAAAAAt0/uOHUPG5bjZM/s320/258762_4268968734105_148192655_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Look at this child's bangs. She cut them herself.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0WIZVWqfFA/UFXPjmqAvWI/AAAAAAAAAt8/l_p2q74gDSI/s1600/337262_4268741608427_177663074_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0WIZVWqfFA/UFXPjmqAvWI/AAAAAAAAAt8/l_p2q74gDSI/s320/337262_4268741608427_177663074_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hv5zqvYhv8I/UFXPk7JQR_I/AAAAAAAAAuE/XN6VplHDLzM/s1600/422885_4268965574026_993936848_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hv5zqvYhv8I/UFXPk7JQR_I/AAAAAAAAAuE/XN6VplHDLzM/s320/422885_4268965574026_993936848_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sophie met a friend from school. I'm so proud of her. She's really coming out of her shell. She ran up to him and hugged him every time we saw him.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qw1KL3jImBk/UFXPl2Wov_I/AAAAAAAAAuM/KNTpVPa4Y1g/s1600/564667_4268814090239_1795920022_n+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qw1KL3jImBk/UFXPl2Wov_I/AAAAAAAAAuM/KNTpVPa4Y1g/s320/564667_4268814090239_1795920022_n+(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">There's that tongue that the women in my family are required to stick out when concentrating.</span></div>
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-66704319511034030142012-09-11T13:11:00.001-07:002012-09-11T13:17:55.908-07:00Like a Boss<div><p>Victoria did her math homework in pen. She has a lot more confidence than anyone should. I'm equally scared and proud.</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-UoTgzMf3o_8/UE-ccVGucCI/AAAAAAAAAr0/ZBQjiO22CI0/1347394590159.png' /></div>mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-90642648474506713732012-09-04T07:52:00.000-07:002012-09-04T07:52:50.677-07:00Girly GirlVictoria has been begging to have her ears pierced (or "peered" as she says) for months now. A lot of her friends have had theirs pierced for a while, and she's such a girl, with her obsessions with beauty and jewelry, so I finally relented. She'll be 7 in less than a month, and she's always been a trooper when it comes to pain, so I took her and the baby out to Claire's on Saturday and got it done. She teared up for a second because it hurt more than she expected, but she quickly got past it when she saw her new bejeweled lobes. Sophie witnessed her sister's bravery and for a second wanted hers done. Knowing that would be a disaster, I distracted her with promises of cookies from the Nestle shop.<br />
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-6458636635566535552012-08-29T09:21:00.002-07:002012-08-29T09:22:20.276-07:00ProgressIt's been about a week since school started, and I'm happy to report that today is the first day Sophie didn't cry. At least not to my face. What she does after I leave is between her and her teacher. I'm also happy to say that I'm adjusting to this whole home alone thing as well...a little too well, probably, considering that I'm desperately trying to get back into the workforce. I've been spending a ridiculous amount of time planning a front yard cemetery for Halloween. Yep- definitely time to go back to work.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Sidenote: Have you seen this guy lately? Hugs not drug, Mac.</span></div>
<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-77122476613784971222012-08-24T07:04:00.002-07:002012-08-24T07:05:29.563-07:00Pictures Holy hell, Batman! What happened to August? September is next week, which is totally surreal. I need to play catch up and post pictures of things that we've done over the past few weeks, so if you're easily bored, skip this post. You can always read about the <a href="http://www.mkabty.blogspot.com/2012/08/like-ton-of-bricks.html" target="_blank">mental breakdown </a>I had yesterday. I'm better today, thank you.<br />
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First up, the beach:<br />
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She's chasing that seagull.</div>
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I'm guessing by the girls' reactions, this is not the most comfortable tree when you're in a nightgown. I love this tree. It's at my Mom's beach house, and I remember climbing it and swinging from it constantly. It also reminds me of Poltergeist, which is not so awesome.</div>
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Trevor and Victoria with their cousin Caylin. Sophie was done by this point.</div>
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SC State Flag in real life. Very cool, except I looked it up, and on the flag, the moon is on the left. Whatevs.</div>
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Beach before sunrise.</div>
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The sun was hidden behind clouds, so it wasn't as glorious as usual. Still beautiful, though.</div>
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My second attempt at capturing the sunrise. I was obsessed with this shrimp boat. It was so close- much closer than normal, and it was so gorgeous against the early morning sky.</div>
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Another shot.</div>
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Yet, another shot. I have about a billion more, because I'm challenged when it comes to my digital camera, and it was hard to capture exactly what it looked like without it being to blurry, to light, or too dark. I guess I should read the manual at some point.</div>
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Clouds again, but still gorgeous. And the hubs was with me, which was nice (for the most part).</div>
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This is <a href="http://www.edistoisland.com/activities/botany-bay-plantation/" target="_blank">Botany Bay</a>, which is a more secluded little beach on Edisto Island. I love it, and I had never been until a couple of years ago, even though I've gone to Edisto practically every year I've been alive.</div>
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My MIL is going to kill me, but I just love this picture. Sophie was so attached to her the entire time they were there.</div>
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Another one they're going to kill me for, but it was sooo sweet!</div>
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Sophie took this one, in case you can't tell.</div>
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Sophie at the Market in Charleston eating ice cream.</div>
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Vic at the Market after some lady put these cool plastic rainbow swirly things in her hair.</div>
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Probably one of my favorite pictures from the trip. This is my son and my MIL tearing out of the ocean because a little girl a few feet away was screaming bloody murder from being stung by a jellyfish. Trev had already gotten a small sting, and Marilyn feels the same as I do about ocean water. We only go in for the kids. Notice my FIL chillin' in the background just daring a jellyfish to sting him.</div>
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Next, the photo from my family reunion. Why only one you ask? Because the photographer (not me) made some interesting choices and took some creative chances that I wasn't a fan of. That's a nice way of saying this is the only one I liked:</div>
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That's me on the left, my cousin Stephanie in the middle, and my sister on the right. I posted the other horrible ones of me <a href="http://yomamaissofat.blogspot.com/2012/08/motivation-and-self-sabotage.html" target="_blank">here</a>, if you're interested. </div>
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Finally, here are the ones from my last day with the kids before school started (tear):</div>
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He seriously drives like an old man.</div>
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Pissed that her car wouldn't go faster. Also side swiped the parked go karts on one of her laps around.</div>
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Trev took this one while Sophie and I were on the go karts. Pretty girl.</div>
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Doing their <a href="http://regularshow.wikia.com/wiki/Fuzzy_Dice" target="_blank">Regular Show</a> impression.</div>
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Telling me not to take a picture. You can be sure she's not smiling.</div>
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Laser tag. The baby loved the glow in the dark aspect but refused to wear the vest. She just ran around in front of me, telling me where to shoot.</div>
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Me being strapped into the Drop Zone (aka instrument of death). Can you see my white knuckles? Trev was the photog for this one.</div>
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The death trap from far away, so you can see how high it goes. Vic insisted that we do it. I made the baby stay with Trev the first time, so she cried the entire time Vic and I were on the ride. She insisted on riding the second time, and she giggled throughout the ride. Not one scream. Not one tear. Looks like I have 2 daredevils on my hands.</div>
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My racing buddy. This was the adult track, so it went pretty fast. Her little legs were flipping and flopping around, and she just laughed and laughed.</div>
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This machine was total bullshit. It had full-sized candy bars, and Sophie actually got the claw to pick up a Reese's Cup. Well after it does that, it drops it onto a platform, and then this other thing has to push the candy into the dispenser, but that only happens if that part is full of candy, too, which is wasn't so she didn't get shit for her efforts. I know it probably doesn't make sense the way I'm explaining it, so all you need to know is that my baby was cheated out of a Reese's Cup, and I was pissed on her behalf.</div>
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Old man Trevor driving on the adult track and being lapped by every other kid out there.</div>
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Vic trying to do DDR.</div>
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Lunch at Five Guys. </div>
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Guilt, sadness, and nostalgia led us here.</div>
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It was a fitting end to an awesome summer. We really did a lot over the past few months, and I couldn't have had a better time with the kids. I already miss them terribly.<br />
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-70271524935666007262012-08-23T07:22:00.001-07:002012-08-23T07:23:32.476-07:00Like a Ton of BricksToday is the first day of school for all of my children. This includes my little 3yo shadow. I thought today would be all about celebrating the silence and peace, but the silence is deafening, and I'm thoroughly depressed. I'm supposed to be out starting my Couch to 5K program, and I had intentions of finally putting my multitudes of Pinterest pins into action, but instead I'm bawling my eyeballs out. I never went through this with the other two. Hell, I didn't go through it with her when I put her in daycare at 6 weeks old. I don't know if it's because she's my baby, or because I've been home the last two years, or because I'm realizing that my work as a stay at home mom is coming to a close. I never wanted to be home with the kids, but when circumstances changed, and that became my life, I really did enjoy it. I guess it surprised me how much I needed it and how sad I am now that it's over. So today, I'm going to feed my emotions with terrible food, distract myself with a lunch outing with my friend, and cry intermittently throughout the day.<br />
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First Day pics and then some tearful songs to bring you down as well.<br />
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This soundtrack is playing in my brain, and that's part of the reason I can't stop boo hooing.<br />
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And another one from that film that's even more approriate.<br />
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And just to torture myself to the fullest, the video I made for her 3rd birthday.<br />
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-11635981109008884152012-08-11T15:47:00.000-07:002012-08-11T15:52:56.879-07:00Michelle 2.0I always knew Sophie looked like me, but damn...My sister was at my mom's house and came across some old pics of yours truly, and it seems that Sophie Grace is her mother's child right down to the pug nose and condescending smirk.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oqooOkvurwY/UCbc4RgJvlI/AAAAAAAAAdg/8sufCVdeLt4/s1600/0811121205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oqooOkvurwY/UCbc4RgJvlI/AAAAAAAAAdg/8sufCVdeLt4/s320/0811121205.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me a hundred years ago.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Gyv6UAPyBk/UCbfFFOAqII/AAAAAAAAAdo/sVEX_ygo4oI/s1600/2012-07-30_20-55-01_950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Gyv6UAPyBk/UCbfFFOAqII/AAAAAAAAAdo/sVEX_ygo4oI/s320/2012-07-30_20-55-01_950.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophie about a week ago.</td></tr>
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-32745246417531541562012-08-01T06:31:00.000-07:002012-08-01T06:32:15.275-07:00First HaircutA couple of days ago, I cut Sophie's hair (at her request), and it dawned on me that it was her first actual haircut. I mean, I've cut her bangs a million times before, but I've never touched the rest. Her hair has a gorgeous curl to it, unlike the nappy squirrel that graces the top of my head. So, when she asked me to cut her hair short like a boy, I obliged, thinking that a short bouncy cut would be super cute. Only, I refused to go as short as she wanted. I am not Angelina Jolie (obv), and she is not <a href="http://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-moms/news/shiloh-jolie-pitt-turns-6-her-cutest-moments-2012275" target="_blank">Shiloh</a>. I'm not nurturing her "I want to be a boy" feelings, because I want her to look like the pretty little girl she is, and I don't want to clean up urine from her attempts to pee standing up. When she gets older and can save up for her operation, I will fully support her transition into maleness, but for now, she's still my baby girl, and will look like it.<br />
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Before:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oRXIm1g76Jw/UBksoXQ8DQI/AAAAAAAAAbY/fc1pHC98E6Q/s1600/2012-07-29_17-08-55_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oRXIm1g76Jw/UBksoXQ8DQI/AAAAAAAAAbY/fc1pHC98E6Q/s320/2012-07-29_17-08-55_72.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Right after when she was so upset because it wasn't short enough:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hq7VC6B5Rvk/UBks0r8mbBI/AAAAAAAAAbg/nvBqZ1b1lEk/s1600/2012-07-30_10-24-26_832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hq7VC6B5Rvk/UBks0r8mbBI/AAAAAAAAAbg/nvBqZ1b1lEk/s320/2012-07-30_10-24-26_832.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A few hours later, when she had settled down about it (excuse the hub's photobomb):<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ylN3ViApMKA/UBktTVq2WXI/AAAAAAAAAb0/fFwjnI_Mbag/s1600/2012-07-31_14-32-07_791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ylN3ViApMKA/UBktTVq2WXI/AAAAAAAAAb0/fFwjnI_Mbag/s320/2012-07-31_14-32-07_791.jpg" width="320" /></a>From the back. And, yes, she is cleaning my shower. She seriously begged to help me. </div>
<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-49066655735426234502012-07-20T19:00:00.000-07:002012-07-20T19:00:20.498-07:00Movie Night and More Summer Pics (Groan)A few days ago I planned to do a movie night for the kids complete with a themed dinner, as in one containing food you would find at the movies. I decided on hotdogs, nachos, and popcorn, and I searched on Allrecipes under "movie" to see if I could find anything useful there. Low and behold I found something called <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/movie-theater-floor/detail.aspx?event8=1&prop24=SR_Title&e11=movie&e8=Quick%20Search&event10=1&e7=Menu%20List" target="_blank">Movie Theater Floor</a>, which was perfect. I replaced regular old boring popcorn with my new awesome recipe and received rave reviews from the fam. Ha! I'm totally kidding! They were total dickheads about it, beginning with the husband who said he would only be able to eat a bite or 2, the 10yo who <strike>forewent</strike> <strike>forsook </strike> skipped the dish altogether in favor of the leftover candy corn, the 6yo who just picked out the candy, and the 3yo who screamed bloody murder because it wasn't "regular" popcorn. I'm here to tell you they're all morons, because this stuff is delicious. I'm hesitantly going to post a picture of it, because it literally looks like someone scraped the bottom of the movie theater floor and threw it into a bowl. I know that's the point, but still. I'm also going to post my recipe, because the person who originally posted it said to put jellybeans in it, and that's just plain fucked up. Why would you put something fruity in something like this? Oh, and another person commented that they added Red Hots. Seriously? "Oh, I just had some Tic Tacs lying around, so I threw them in, too." Don't fucking do that shit. Follow my recipe, and I promise it will be delish. 1 out of 5 people in my family approves.<br />
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Movie Theater Floor (God this needs an easier name.)<br />
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Ingredients:<br />
1 Bag of microwave popcorn (or about 3.5-4 cups of already popped)<br />
1/2 Bag of Fritos<br />
5-6 oz of nuts<br />
3 Movie boxes of various candies (I used M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, and Butterfinger Bites- don't try to <span style="background-color: white;">deviate from this awesome combo)</span><br />
7 oz of candy corn ( I honestly hate this shit, but I could barely taste it, so you might as well include it.)<br />
12 oz bag of white chocolate chips<br />
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Pop the popcorn (duh). Make sure you get all the kernels out that didn't pop, so no one cracks a tooth. Or, just buy the pre-popped bag of popcorn, so you don't have to worry about that. Then mix it in a big bowl with the fritos, the nuts, the awesome candy, and the disgusting candy corn. Melt the white chocolate very carefully, because if you don't, that shit will separate and be useless. Put the whole package in a bowl and microwave for 30 seconds. Take it out and stir. Microwave again, and stir some more. At this point, mine was melted. I highly suggest that you stir for a while because the heat from the bowl will continue to melt it. Once it's liquid, poor it over the popcorn/frito/candy mixture and stir, stir, stir. You will have carpal tunnel and/or hand cramps by the time it's sufficiently mixed. You're supposed to let it cool, but I say go ahead and have a sneak taste of it. Oh, and it's really the Fritos that make the dish, so definitely don't forget them.<br />
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Here's what it will look like:<br />
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Again, I know it doesn't look appetizing, but it really is. And the kids should get a kick out of it, if they're not total demon monsters.<br />
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Here are some other pics that I haven't uploaded, yet. We went to the park, the lake, the pool, and Monkey Joe's and those little bastards couldn't feign some sort of appreciation for my efforts. Anyway, here they are enjoying themselves.<br />
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Just FYI my kids need to straighten up, because that little baby in the stroller is the best kid ever, and I was thisclose to trying the old bait and switch with one of my own, so I could take her home with me. All of the kids were spectacularly good and got along famously.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V_IL4Q18K-c/UAoG_cbu0BI/AAAAAAAAAaw/K-F5YEKA4ts/s1600/2012-07-15_12-24-35_137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V_IL4Q18K-c/UAoG_cbu0BI/AAAAAAAAAaw/K-F5YEKA4ts/s320/2012-07-15_12-24-35_137.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Those are Sophie's sunglasses. Not ones she borrowed from me. Hers. She picked them out from the store, and I love them on her. Also, I'm happy to report none of us is suffering from flesh eating bacteria or that brain eating amoeba thing.<br />
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And, finally, here is my super brave toddler who is now jumping full force into the pool. This week she also decided to finally start pooping in the potty instead of demanding a diaper, going into her room, locking the door, loading said diaper, and smushing it on her butt while she plays, requiring use of half a package of baby wipes each time.<br />
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On a side note, I really need to use the camera my mother got me for Christmas, because it's really not the same with phones.mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-21481465191938740142012-07-06T19:00:00.001-07:002012-07-06T19:01:04.367-07:00It's That Time AgainIt's been 2 months s<span style="background-color: white;">ince the 6yo's cast came off, so naturally we were due for another crisis. The 10yo always seems to be good for that. This poor kid has my luck and grace, so if it's going to happen to anyone, it will be him. He's already broken all of the bones in his hand, gotten stitches in his forehead from a rogue golf ball, and sliced the bottom of his foot open on an oyster shell. Before it's all over with, the kid is going to look like Frankenstein.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Today he somehow managed to split open his arm while playing Hide and Seek INSIDE the neighbor's house. We still can't figure out what he cut it on, but it required 4 stitches and a sundae from McDonald's. Poor kid.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Time to reset the counter.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-2514328770562407762012-07-02T09:54:00.000-07:002012-07-02T09:54:55.252-07:00DowntimeAlthough I'm desperately trying to get back into the work force and put all of this school schmool stuff behind me, I am still technically a student, so that I can continue to defer my student loans until a point in which I am gainfully employed again, and we can afford to begin paying them back. To keep up with the ruse, I am supposed to register today, and I actually found a couple of classes that will be useful in a multitude of career paths. Well, my college is notorious for its difficulties with registering- people not getting classes, system not being able to handle too many people registering at one time, etc., so I am always ready to go at 8 am on the dot on the first day of registration. I always get kicked out of the system multiple times, which is super stressful, but I have always managed to get my classes due to my perseverance and preparedness. <br />
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Today is supposed to be the first day of registration for Fall, and the 2 classes I found are offered online, except for 1 meeting for an hour and a half 1 night per week. It would be the easiest schedule I've ever had, and I could still work during the day without having to drop the classes. It's ideal to be sure. Of course, I hadn't counted on the registration system being down all day today, so I've been sitting at the computer ALL MORNING LONG waiting for them to fix whatever the hell is wrong, so I can sign up for my classes as soon as the system is up and running, and move the hell on with my life. My poor children have been neglected and forced to care for themselves, and I know I only have a short time until this turns into <i><strike>Lord of the Flies</strike> The Hunger Games </i>( I actually read this one), and my kids start fighting to the death for their own preservation. I also still need to go to the grocery store as well, so it really is about to be <i>The Hunger Games</i>, and I can promise I will win that shit, so it's best if it doesn't even become an issue<i>.</i></div>
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Since I'm stuck here anyway, I've decided to post some pictures proving that today really is the only day of neglect, because I've been running around all summer like an insane person trying to keep these children entertained. We've been to a few parks, the zoo, and the pool just about every day. All I'm saying is that I'd better be about 50 pounds lighter come August 23rd. Oh, and I probably should note that it's really my neighbor who's forcing me to be a fantabulous mother. She's active and fit and fun, and she's dragging me into that healthy lifestyle with her. And I couldn't be more grateful. Without her, there may have already been a murder-suicide at my house. You can see her adorable little boy in some of the pics below.</div>
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Proof to my children's future therapists that I'm not a terrible mother:</div>
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They are all clothed, FYI.</div>
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He's seriously, the most well-behaved kid. Hopefully mine won't ruin him.</div>
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The girls in a rare moment of cooperation.</div>
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I had to include this one. This is my father-in-law fixing Sophie's blanket for the bazillionth time.</div>
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Water balloons. We ended up throwing about 70 total.</div>
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She had just thrown a balloon at me and was so happy.</div>
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<br /></div>mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-70100736416884521762012-06-16T21:29:00.004-07:002012-06-16T21:30:38.854-07:00Happy Father's Day From The Future...Wesley,<br />
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In just 10 short years, Trevor will be 20 and out of the house (hopefully), Victoria will be 16, and Sophie will be 13. It's horrifying to think about, but time marches on, I guess. Anywho, they wanted to wish you a Happy Father's Day and thought their sentiments would best be expressed through song.</div>
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First is from Trevor...</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KUwjNBjqR-c?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Interesting choice. Pretty melancholy, but he always was a bit of a drama queen amiright?</div>
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Next is Victoria's: </div>
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Well that was...expected. Let's be honest.</div>
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And, finally it's Sophie's turn- </div>
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Hmm...Well, I think it's safe to say you did a solid job of parenting. Good luck with those kids future Wesley.</div>
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In all seriousness, you are a wonderful father, and I am so thankful every day that I have you to help me raise these precocious and amazing kids. I love you. And here is my Father's Day sentiment:</div>
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*Please believe this is the least cheesy video I could find on YouTube. </div>mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-68731963598753686362012-06-10T07:47:00.000-07:002012-06-10T07:48:05.040-07:00ShackledIt's official. School is out, and I am about to become a slave to the 3 little <strike>monsters</strike> angels. Although school has officially been out for a week now, we put the kids in a summer camp last week, so tomorrow is my first real day at home with them...all day...every day...until August 23rd (or possibly sooner, if the job thing works out). If yesterday is any indication of what I'm in for, I'm going to need a Xanax prescription stat, or someone is going to get locked in a closet and beaten with wire hangers.<br />
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In spite of my impending incarceration, I have good news- Trev finished out the school year with straight A's, and Vic is at a reading level of 10, which means nothing to me, except that the average is a 4, so that's like 2.5 times as good, right? I'm very proud of them.<br />
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Here they are on their last day:
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-9044748664950922952012-05-27T20:10:00.000-07:002012-05-27T20:11:43.674-07:00Master ManipulatorOn Friday night, we were over at our neighbors', and the kids were playing. Victoria somehow ended up bumping heads with their kid, and her already loose front tooth became looser. It was pulled out by my <strike>drunk</strike> heroic neighbor, so she got a visit from a tipsy tooth fairy that night that had to scrounge around the change jar to drum up some dough while her husband was passed out on the living room floor (lucky gal). Well, the next day, we noticed the tooth next to it was ready to come out as well. It was still in her head today hanging by a thread, so we wanted to get it out so she didn't swallow it in the middle of the night. The hubs ended up making a deal with her to go ahead and pre-purchase a goody from the store while they were out today in order to prevent the tooth fairy from having to make another trip and to encourage Victoria to wiggle that thing out. She chose markers, and the deal was done...or so we thought. The tooth was still in there at bedtime, so she and I grabbed some floss, and with some twisting, a little blood, and a tremendous amount of gag suppression, I was able to yank it free. Then, all of a sudden, she declared the prior deal null and void. Wesley told her the tooth fairy wasn't coming, and she got really upset. I wanted to keep the magic a little longer, so I told her we would see what we could do. Well, I went into her room later to check on her, and I saw these pictures surrounding her tooth:<br />
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They're both pictures of the tooth fairy (I assume), and one says "I Love You," so seriously, what they hell was I supposed to do? I had to reward the kid and leave her some scratch and a note from the TF herself:<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NynCalKfyvw/T8LreUnvDTI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/XsX-wRPs5_M/s1600/2012-05-27_22-42-02_291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NynCalKfyvw/T8LreUnvDTI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/XsX-wRPs5_M/s320/2012-05-27_22-42-02_291.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now if this happens again tomorrow, I'm going to have to put a stop to it. And, probably also take that kid to the dentist, because that shit is fucked up. I've had nightmares about pulling my own teeth out. I don't intend to live them out through my daughter. Also the tooth fairy is going broke.</div>
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8530371336741164978.post-44705618859892355042012-05-25T05:25:00.000-07:002012-05-25T05:26:11.611-07:00Who Has 2 Thumbs and Is Turning 35?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This guy! </div>
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I'm married to an old man, nevermind the fact that I'm only a year younger. We've officially been together for half our lives, which is unreal. In honor of his birthday/ our anniversary, I put together a slideshow, which could also be used for his funeral (bonus!).</div>
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<br />mseiglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09893822936372053989noreply@blogger.com0