tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15387582267038709302024-03-12T22:59:33.889-04:00Live~Laugh~LoveIzzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.comBlogger172125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-2215515140705688432011-08-22T09:28:00.003-04:002011-08-22T10:25:31.372-04:00FIrst Day of School<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KsTuaZNCHHU/TlJmWnAqbHI/AAAAAAAABz4/xyDlZr-L43U/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KsTuaZNCHHU/TlJmWnAqbHI/AAAAAAAABz4/xyDlZr-L43U/s400/photo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643685821663571058" border="0" /></a>
<br />Today is the first day of school! Just dropped the kids off...ahhh peace and quiet! I was able to sneak out of the room while Sky was playing so no tears! I'm sure he got upset once he realized I wasn't there anymore but fingers crossed he didn't!
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<br />This is Isabelle's last year of preschool. She could have gone to kindergarten this year but since her birthday is a late birthday we were able to have a choice. I don't take very many decisions lightly.. I am so indecisive and I over think everything and I need to have more confidence in my decision when I actually finally make it.
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<br />I was told in March that I needed to register Isabelle for kindergarten. I really didn't want to do it. Nothing about it felt right. Jason and I went back and forth about full day vs half day. I spoke with teachers at the school, I spoke with her preschool teachers, I spoke with friends. It wasn't until the last day of registration that I actually pushed myself kicking and screaming into the building to register her. Then I got back in my car and just cried because I wasn't ready for this and I didn't truly feel like she was either.
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<br />Don't get me wrong Isabelle is very intelligent. Very. And not just books smart intelligent she is so smart in so many different areas. But she has the attention span of a fly and no focus. She still gets very tired in the afternoons and after school last year of a 9-1:30 MWF schedule was pure torture. Thinking about everyday 9-3 made me want to just run away from home at the start of the school year.
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<br />I thought about her friends that would not be starting kindergarten until next year..all of which have summer birthdays or September and October birthdays and she seemed just like them but the kids that turned 5 during the winter last year that she would be going with seemed so much older.
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<br />I was really sick with stress over it all. I couldn't sleep at night and during the day I just wanted to cry. I would just tell myself over and over, "this is what you are supposed to do", but it offered me no comfort at all. Then I ran into a friend at Target who had decided to wait another year with her daughter and suddenly it was like the weight was lifted and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I didn't even really know at that time it was an option..well, let me rephrase.. I knew it was an option but I didn't realize it could be an option for us. I had heard of kids having birthdays June-August waiting but Isabelle's was May. We had already planned to wait a year with Sky and his is a mere 7 days after hers.
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<br />I gave myself some time to digest all of this new info and really go over it (and over it and over it) in my mind. I finally brought it up to Jason and he was right on board with me. We got Isabelle registered back in preschool and had to rearrange Sky's schedule.
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<br />I didn't really share my decision with very many people. I knew there were people who would not support it but I really didn't realize how great that number would be. Uh yeah... a lot. I was truly shocked. I mean this is my kid, right? We are the parents and get to make the decisions, right? Apparently not. I was met with a lot of oppression which some days would make me feel like I was doing the wrong thing and other days it would make me feel the exact opposite. I really didn't get why all of these people had such a vested interest in Isabelle's schooling. Oddly enough we met a lot of strangers this summer..most of the ones I remember were in public restrooms.. strange, right? They would start talking to the kids and ask how old they were. Isabelle would say she was 5 which then resulted with "so you start kindergarten this year." To which Isabelle would say "No I am going to start kindergarten when I'm 6" so they would look at me for an explanation and every single one of them only said they thought I was doing a wonderful thing. Oh I wanted to hug them...and take down their number for when the other people were not so positive I could have them call the stranger and hear how awesome I truly was. ;o)
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<br />Most people backed off come the middle of the summer or I would just change the subject when school came up. Orientation was Friday and it was like the beginning of the summer all over again with me in tears in the afternoon wondering "what in the world am I doing?" all because of some look that a mom gave me when Isabelle said she was already 5 and that her birthday was in May. A sympathetic look that said "oh you poor thing you have a stupid daughter". While I appreciate your concern and sympathy no my daughter is not stupid. I have a feeling sympathetic mom and I are not going to end up besties. Darn. Moms are so mean. Ugh.
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<br />My question is how in the world am I supposed to teach Isabelle to be confident in her decisions when I obviously really suck in this department?
<br />Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-73535505666559211062011-07-04T12:53:00.007-04:002011-07-04T13:59:39.978-04:00a boy and his dog<div><div style="text-align: center; ">This boy loves his dog.</div></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l_bAB6r7c8w/ThHwtnp49dI/AAAAAAAABzg/3C9v9Ou60EU/s1600/DSC_1237EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l_bAB6r7c8w/ThHwtnp49dI/AAAAAAAABzg/3C9v9Ou60EU/s400/DSC_1237EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625542076091921874" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">He talks nonstop all day to Kashmir, about Kashmir, "where is Kashy?"..nonstop.all.day. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_b09fnb-44M/ThHwuDtwCmI/AAAAAAAABzo/qwZcpZD1KRM/s1600/DSC_1242EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_b09fnb-44M/ThHwuDtwCmI/AAAAAAAABzo/qwZcpZD1KRM/s400/DSC_1242EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625542083624307298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The feeling is mutual though but I'm fairly certain the only reason Kashmir allows Schuyler to do whatever he wants to her is because she is a smart girl and knows you do not bite the hand that feeds you. And Schuyler makes sure that Kashmir never goes hungry.</div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l_bAB6r7c8w/ThHwtnp49dI/AAAAAAAABzg/3C9v9Ou60EU/s1600/DSC_1237EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l_bAB6r7c8w/ThHwtnp49dI/AAAAAAAABzg/3C9v9Ou60EU/s400/DSC_1237EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625542076091921874" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Which has resulted in Kashmir having a weight problem....again. They are a match made in heaven due to their shared love of food and eating. So, naturally, Schuyler makes sure to share all of his food with Kashmir. Have I mentioned he eats nonstop all day? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2yiaJdho-w0/ThHwdtBrZAI/AAAAAAAABzY/Gfe1B0bZYlc/s1600/DSC_1208EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2yiaJdho-w0/ThHwdtBrZAI/AAAAAAAABzY/Gfe1B0bZYlc/s400/DSC_1208EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625541802655966210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We are trying our hardest to fix this problem before it results in another knee surgery. The fact that she has already had knee surgery and is getting up there in age makes the weight problem this go around feel much more serious.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mMOeEKBCvSU/ThHwdD0yOmI/AAAAAAAABzQ/od9C_FJUt8k/s1600/DSC_1228EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mMOeEKBCvSU/ThHwdD0yOmI/AAAAAAAABzQ/od9C_FJUt8k/s400/DSC_1228EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625541791596034658" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">He isn't exactly the best listener though...that or he just doesn't care what we say. Probably a little bit of both. We constantly tell him she can't have people food and he gives us that smile as he hands her another bite. Little stinker. </div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TQw4SeG00LY/ThHwc17mwSI/AAAAAAAABzI/5hwECpg_dEc/s1600/DSC_1230EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TQw4SeG00LY/ThHwc17mwSI/AAAAAAAABzI/5hwECpg_dEc/s400/DSC_1230EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625541787866546466" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">You can try hard to get frustrated with him but its something about that smile..its impossible. Trust me I have tried very hard these past 2 years. It is virtually impossible to stay mad at that boy for more than 2 seconds before he smiles or does something to make you burst into laughter.</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--225BpvGJxw/ThHwcMXGo-I/AAAAAAAABzA/waYS1_8ojvo/s1600/DSC_1234EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--225BpvGJxw/ThHwcMXGo-I/AAAAAAAABzA/waYS1_8ojvo/s400/DSC_1234EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625541776707593186" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Hopefully that quality will take him far in life. But, for now, it leaves me in a life filled with moments of frustration that last for only a second before I'm left smiling and shaking my head wondering where I went wrong.</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PNOf6F3deEw/ThHwbdsZkjI/AAAAAAAABy4/2u7lwAlF-vQ/s1600/DSC_1235EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PNOf6F3deEw/ThHwbdsZkjI/AAAAAAAABy4/2u7lwAlF-vQ/s400/DSC_1235EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625541764180447794" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">But we do have one very happy dog!</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u2EvM5hsvPY/ThHwuw2og_I/AAAAAAAABzw/tM7u5VBPRDU/s1600/DSC_1271EDIT.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u2EvM5hsvPY/ThHwuw2og_I/AAAAAAAABzw/tM7u5VBPRDU/s400/DSC_1271EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625542095741158386" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">xxJen</div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-63209273665353402152011-07-01T22:04:00.005-04:002011-07-01T22:49:00.537-04:00Is this thing on?Wow almost one year exactly since my last post. It has been quite a year..lots of soul searching and finding myself I guess. I have had a year of being very frustrated with my camera and feeling like I couldn't find the words I was looking for to write which resulted in locking both the camera and the blog in a closet for the past year. Not literally, I have taken photos of my kids but none of them were meeting my approval. You are your hardest critic, I guess. It was very frustrating not feeling capable of expressing myself creatively at all. <div><br /></div><div>I also found out I have one of the thyroid issues..I can't keep them straight which is which. When I remember to take my medication everything is great..my hair doesn't fall out, I am happy, I lose weight, I have energy...I really need to be better about taking that medication! I am so glad I went to the Dr's and got it tested. I really thought I was losing my mind. I have never felt depressed before and it really sucked. I know, who really goes around enjoying depression. Man though it sucked. I was convinced it was my thyroid after talking to a friend... at first my Dr just wanted to write me an Rx for some anti-depressants and call me an angry housewife. Glad I fought for that test!<br /><div><br /></div><div>Then I was excommunicated from my sorority friends. No it isn't a real sorority but it very well could be. I'm not even sure really what happened..at this point I don't even care anymore honestly. At the time it was all happening I wasn't really sure of how I was feeling..I went through a lot of emotions..anger..hurt..resentment...sad...relief. I always ended up feeling relieved. Now that it has been some time I can say 100% that it is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I took the experience and everything I learned from it to grow and change and figure out who it is that I want to be.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess it was a year of a lot of falling down but every time I picked myself back up and moved forward.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I have missed using the blog as an outlet and journal since I am a terrible scrapbooker and baby book filler-inner. I hope to be around more..if anyone even still remembers this exists and if no one does that is ok because I am perfectly happy talking to myself like I do all day every day.</div><div><br /></div><div>And here are the kids! Yes they always love each other that much and are always that happy..always. No fighting or whining in our house...at least not in my imaginary world I choose to visit..often. <div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XMRwboj7DS4/Tg5-cv11ksI/AAAAAAAAByw/5dFfg7XD1Vg/s1600/DSC_9976.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XMRwboj7DS4/Tg5-cv11ksI/AAAAAAAAByw/5dFfg7XD1Vg/s400/DSC_9976.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624572016976040642" /></a></div></div></div></div><div>Well, that's all for now. </div><div><br /></div><div>xxJen</div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-55951918099281231542010-07-06T20:51:00.001-04:002010-07-06T20:52:14.048-04:00Our Little Dancer<div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u></u></span></div><u></u><div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBZ_RH2_I/AAAAAAAABxY/dMpvVk0uXFg/s1600/_DSC9887.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBZ_RH2_I/AAAAAAAABxY/dMpvVk0uXFg/s400/_DSC9887.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490593179198020594" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">The first song they danced to "Come and Get Your Love". Of course Isabelle danced beautifully. Pure perfection. Well maybe not perfection but she sure did look cute up there. </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBXtOJgFI/AAAAAAAABxI/eymdN1vsQM0/s1600/_DSC1255.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBXtOJgFI/AAAAAAAABxI/eymdN1vsQM0/s400/_DSC1255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490593139993968722" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">They did this adorable little move during this number where they kind of hugged themselves and then shimmied down. I definitely just completely butchered whatever the move was and made it sound so not cute. It really was though. Just take my word. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBxNSqMNI/AAAAAAAABxw/7ig-sCGIGWs/s1600/_DSC1267.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBxNSqMNI/AAAAAAAABxw/7ig-sCGIGWs/s400/_DSC1267.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490593578099552466" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBwpVO5LI/AAAAAAAABxo/CVXF2IP9Lz0/s1600/_DSC1275.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBwpVO5LI/AAAAAAAABxo/CVXF2IP9Lz0/s400/_DSC1275.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490593568446670002" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div></div><div style="text-align: left;">The second dance was to the song, "Fireflies". Its a current song on the radio. Of course I spend my days listening to <a href="http://www.laurieberkner.com/site/">Laurie Berkner</a> so I had never even heard the song before. Now I can't get the song out of my head and I think it comes on in every store and restaurant we are in. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBYwcRp_I/AAAAAAAABxQ/-vMM3uhSSjI/s1600/_DSC9892.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBYwcRp_I/AAAAAAAABxQ/-vMM3uhSSjI/s400/_DSC9892.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490593158038398962" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Every time I hear it I picture Isabelle doing her dance and skipping around the stage and it makes me smile. That would be the performance from the competition we did because she decided not to do the dance for the recital. </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBwD6b-mI/AAAAAAAABxg/aHRiTq7wacY/s1600/_DSC1279.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKBwD6b-mI/AAAAAAAABxg/aHRiTq7wacY/s400/_DSC1279.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490593558402169442" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Nope, instead she did her own thing. Most of it was spent looking like this. I may not be a dancer but I am fairly certain this is not a dance move she was taught. Hands on hip, chin up in the air, lips pursed.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKDRc7UTGI/AAAAAAAAByI/-6aHRpXCsQ0/s1600/_DSC1284.JPG"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKDRc7UTGI/AAAAAAAAByI/-6aHRpXCsQ0/s1600/_DSC1284.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TDKDRc7UTGI/AAAAAAAAByI/-6aHRpXCsQ0/s400/_DSC1284.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490595231564057698" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> Nope, this is not a dance move this is the "I don't care what you want me to do I am not going to do it" move. Now that move she has perfected.</div></div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-5276632945976264692010-06-21T14:00:00.004-04:002010-06-21T14:10:24.854-04:00"Sing us a song you're the piano man"<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; ">"sing us a song tonight<br />well we're all in the mood for a melody<br />and you got us all feeling alright"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; "><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TB-p9t2li-I/AAAAAAAABwg/3wDDU3E5PQQ/s1600/DSC_8906.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TB-p9t2li-I/AAAAAAAABwg/3wDDU3E5PQQ/s400/DSC_8906.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485289748906216418" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-128216079778783272010-06-18T20:37:00.003-04:002010-06-18T21:23:59.012-04:00Sweet Dreams<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwRjQAnczI/AAAAAAAABwA/ei1tvC_GpEo/s1600/_DSC1365.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwRjQAnczI/AAAAAAAABwA/ei1tvC_GpEo/s400/_DSC1365.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484277743521067826" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Many nights Isabelle will show up in our room in the middle of the night saying she had a bad dream. When we try to ask her what it was about she says she would just rather not talk about it. I never really knew if she really meant that or if she was just saying she had a bad dream hoping we would let her sleep with us.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwbQbzkbHI/AAAAAAAABwI/iEjax1QIcak/s1600/_DSC1374EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwbQbzkbHI/AAAAAAAABwI/iEjax1QIcak/s400/_DSC1374EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484288415386332274" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This morning while we were eating breakfast she told me she had a scary dream last night. She said that her Sleeping Beauty Doll (her most prized doll) was in her laptop and she had really scary teeth. Then I did something that made her come to life from out of the laptop (she didn't have scary teeth anymore) and Sleeping Beauty was holding her tight and wouldn't let her go. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwbRautTaI/AAAAAAAABwQ/xLelP8Qxgj4/s1600/_DSC1373EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwbRautTaI/AAAAAAAABwQ/xLelP8Qxgj4/s400/_DSC1373EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484288432277376418" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">All day she thought about her dream. She kept asking me when she would forget about it. I wanted so badly to reach into her mind and erase it. At naptime I asked her if she wanted Sleeping Beauty in bed with her. She asked me why I would ask her that. Of course she wanted Sleeping Beauty. I just tried to brush it off..Silly Mommy, what was I thinking. We read stories and she says to me she knows why I asked her if she wanted Sleeping Beauty in bed. She says I asked because of her dream and she assures me she will be ok. "Don't worry Mommy", she says to me. It is becoming virtually impossible to get anything past that girl.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwbR9ci-TI/AAAAAAAABwY/GKbx0BpTm2s/s1600/_DSC1368EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/TBwbR9ci-TI/AAAAAAAABwY/GKbx0BpTm2s/s400/_DSC1368EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484288441596442930" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Tonight after she went to bed I told Jason about her dream. He told me 2 days ago she wanted to watch Taylor Swift videos on his iPad. When he searched for them this was the first video that came up</div><div style="text-align: center;"><object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/G5bL5mZk8hk/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G5bL5mZk8hk&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G5bL5mZk8hk&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: center;">No wonder she had a bad dream! Eek! She just came out of her room now and said she is still thinking about it and had another dream. I think its going to be a long night. Hopefully she only has sweet dreams tonight.</div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-88097899940598151932010-04-27T21:54:00.003-04:002010-04-27T22:07:19.843-04:00To the moon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S9eWSiiOqpI/AAAAAAAABv4/EHTAdILMtJQ/s1600/DSC_8090.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S9eWSiiOqpI/AAAAAAAABv4/EHTAdILMtJQ/s400/DSC_8090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465001918089570962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Tonight at dinner Isabelle leans over to Schuyler and whispers, "I love you so much, Buddy. I love you the whole way to the moon and back". And my heart was happy. </div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-90807359083212281812010-04-10T10:44:00.003-04:002010-04-10T10:52:39.025-04:00Smartypants<div style="text-align: center;">Sky has gotten to the point where he refuses to eat baby food...</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CO7x8NKZI/AAAAAAAABvw/IrIxNdRYv1s/s1600/DSC_7158EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CO7x8NKZI/AAAAAAAABvw/IrIxNdRYv1s/s400/DSC_7158EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458519906042325394" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Unless Isabelle is feeding it to him. </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CO7TnKZuI/AAAAAAAABvo/KJusIrK0kog/s1600/DSC_7155EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CO7TnKZuI/AAAAAAAABvo/KJusIrK0kog/s400/DSC_7155EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458519897901000418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">And I am very ok with this. </div><div style="text-align: center;">(Pay no attention to Isabelle and her Don Juan pajamas.. she has an issue with zippers being close to her neck. I have no clue.)</div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-76803562242328607962010-04-10T09:21:00.003-04:002010-04-10T10:43:58.717-04:00Miss Independent<div style="text-align: center;">This girl is about to turn 4 soon... and I really can hardly believe it. Every year around this time she starts to change. Its usually when we butt heads the most as she seems to start to try out her new skin and push for a little more independence. She is a master negotiator though. I mean WOW!</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8B7ZL5Jq0I/AAAAAAAABvI/lSHourA21qE/s1600/DSC_7061EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8B7ZL5Jq0I/AAAAAAAABvI/lSHourA21qE/s400/DSC_7061EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458498420992486210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Some of the things she says are just hilarious. Last night we were watching tv and a car commercial or something came on. Well, of course, cool car = Jason wants it. So he says something like, "Oh wow I want that" or something to that effect. Isabelle replies back with, "You can't have everything Daddy. You need to be thankful for what you have." Jason was speechless (which doesn't happen often!).</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CETevFzUI/AAAAAAAABvg/4Q30oAfoMBQ/s1600/DSC_7198EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CETevFzUI/AAAAAAAABvg/4Q30oAfoMBQ/s400/DSC_7198EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458508218575998274" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">She has also come with nicknames that only she calls Schuyler. Like Mr. Buddy....we have no clue where she came up with that! She also calls him Mr. Sky, (not sure what's up with all of the "Mr.'s"..she is very proper, I guess!) Skybaby, Skybuddy, Skysilly and a million other things that she just attaches to Sky. Of course he loves any name she calls him.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CES_7uehI/AAAAAAAABvY/HGAs4cO3iLY/s1600/DSC_7187EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CES_7uehI/AAAAAAAABvY/HGAs4cO3iLY/s400/DSC_7187EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458508210307496466" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Gosh, I wish I could remember some other things she has said lately. Just hilarious. The weather was nice enough a week ago that we were able to go for a bike ride. I really missed that last year with Sky being so young and unable to ride in the trailer. Isabelle loved having him back there with her. I am excited for the bike rides that are in our future this summer! </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CESTEV03I/AAAAAAAABvQ/12cZvcnbC_8/s1600/DSC_7179EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S8CESTEV03I/AAAAAAAABvQ/12cZvcnbC_8/s400/DSC_7179EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458508198264034162" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Today we are going playset shopping. We found one online that we really like so we are going to go around to some local places. We're planning to get one that we can assemble ourselves, but if the deal is good enough for someone else to do it I am sure we will bite. We are capable though and you can get more for your money when not having to pay out the wazoo for labor so we'll see. Also, this week we had a quite a big delivery! I will have to upload the pics from my camera to share what it is!!! </div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-12149808155640539712010-04-07T21:01:00.004-04:002010-04-07T22:04:30.798-04:00Smiley Happy Baby<div>Wow so its been a little while, huh? We are all still alive..nothing too major has been happening. In the beginning of February Jason and I started doing P90X. It's a pretty intense workout program. We went from spending our evenings after kids went bed watching TV and surfing the net to working out. With P90X we are working out 6 days a week with Thursday nights being our day off. By the time we get done working out I am feeling pretty spent and blogging is the last thing I want to do. Then during the day it's busy busy with the usual kids and keeping up with the house type of stuff. Lately with the nice weather we've been spending a lot of days outside riding bikes. So I guess that's about it for my excuses.. I know, none of them are good excuses! </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70susGCLeI/AAAAAAAABu4/G4k2pCSx-oU/s1600/DSC_6977EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70susGCLeI/AAAAAAAABu4/G4k2pCSx-oU/s400/DSC_6977EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457567504064982498" /></a>This little boy is growing up way too fast...but he is still my little baby. And, oh, is he a mama's boy! I do love it though I'm not going to lie. He does love his Daddy too though. When Jason gets home from work Schuyler just goes crazy. He crawls over to him as fast as his little knees will move and then climbs up his legs. Jason speaks and Sky just watches him with awe. <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70suOGVjdI/AAAAAAAABuw/ulq9MLSOM6g/s1600/DSC_6980EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70suOGVjdI/AAAAAAAABuw/ulq9MLSOM6g/s400/DSC_6980EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457567496013188562" /></a>And of course you know he is crazy for his big sister. She is really enjoying him getting older and being able to play with him. He is so easy going and just goes along with whatever crazy thing she has him doing. I tell her it won't last long and he will develop an opinion about what he wants to do. I don't think she believes me though. She looks at me with this look on her face like, "yeah, ok, whatever you say Mom". Maybe she knows better than me that he won't have an opinion. That would be ok with me.. we have enough opinionated people in this house!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70stvj5snI/AAAAAAAABuo/Sz5w6TjBO8A/s1600/DSC_6985EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70stvj5snI/AAAAAAAABuo/Sz5w6TjBO8A/s400/DSC_6985EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457567487815692914" /></a>And smiley!! He is so smiley! So smiley and happy! Isabelle was a pretty happy baby as well so I know how fortunate we are to have 2 happy babies! He loves people and is soooo nosey! It is virtually impossible for him to fall asleep in public if there is something else going on. He needs to see everything that is going on and smile at everyone that comes within a 25 ft radius of him. He really does smile at everyone.. they don't even have to be looking at them he is just smiling away and so completely taken by them. It is my favorite though to watch people's reactions when they catch his eye and he is smiling at them. The first thing they do is smile back at him.. then they usually look around to make sure he isn't smiling and laughing at someone behind them making cooky faces or something..then they go back to smiling and waving and playing peek-a-boo. I'm a dork, I know.. watching my baby make people smile..it's probably a pretty weird thing to do..maybe a little self-indulgent, I don't know, but I guess this is my blog so that already makes me at least a little self-indulgent?? Anyway, some of those people though might have had the worst day ever or maybe they don't have anything in their lives to smile about and then in comes perma-smile Sky making them feel good about themselves. Yeah ok, I just read that all back through..I am a super dork. Smiley, happy baby.. you get the point I'm sure.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70r2e5fr8I/AAAAAAAABug/auoHxxipIdE/s1600/DSC_6934EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70r2e5fr8I/AAAAAAAABug/auoHxxipIdE/s400/DSC_6934EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457566538450055106" /></a>He totally thinks he is bigger then he really is. He seems to think he can stand by himself.. now mind you, he really can't. But he can't help but to pull himself up to standing and then let go of whatever he is holding onto. He should bend his little knees and sort of plop down.. does he do that? Nope. He pretty much just falls right on his head. The kid is bound and determined though to stand on his own. I think he still has a little while till he will be able to do it. I just pray he doesn't injure his brain in the process!</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70r1tlp2QI/AAAAAAAABuY/OFiHCP7tvCo/s1600/DSC_6939EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70r1tlp2QI/AAAAAAAABuY/OFiHCP7tvCo/s400/DSC_6939EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457566525213497602" /></a>This is what he does when he gets tired. He will also rub this spot on my back near my shoulder or claw my neck. Love the clawing of the neck...its usually a reminder I need to trim his nails! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70r1Gv5mlI/AAAAAAAABuQ/GMVEmr7s878/s1600/DSC_6949EDIT.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S70r1Gv5mlI/AAAAAAAABuQ/GMVEmr7s878/s400/DSC_6949EDIT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457566514787490386" /></a>He may be getting big but he is still pretty tiny! I forget what he was at his 9 month appt but when I got home I checked Isabelle's 9 month stats and they were right the same. She was 25th percentile for height and weight and he is 5th percentile for both! I thought it was pretty crazy that for the same measurements there was that much difference in percentiles between boys and girls! I have so much to update on Isabelle too.. I promise it won't be forever until I post again! </div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-66131313908154155192010-01-27T23:17:00.000-05:002010-01-27T23:18:07.430-05:00My baby sister<div style="text-align: center;">now has a baby of her own..</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbpkcBGzI/AAAAAAAABtw/PSbpXJ4Biro/s1600-h/DSC_6516EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbpkcBGzI/AAAAAAAABtw/PSbpXJ4Biro/s400/DSC_6516EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431512289066949426" border="0" /></a><br />Sometimes its still hard for me to believe that he is actually hers..<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbEk57DpI/AAAAAAAABtI/jFknUTzvieM/s1600-h/DSC_6488EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbEk57DpI/AAAAAAAABtI/jFknUTzvieM/s400/DSC_6488EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431511653537222290" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And she is now responsible for keeping another human being alive<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbpEmEG9I/AAAAAAAABto/pwu-Zw6HXso/s1600-h/DSC_6513EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbpEmEG9I/AAAAAAAABto/pwu-Zw6HXso/s400/DSC_6513EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431512280519154642" border="0" /></a>which is kind of frightening to think about.. (just kidding ;o) )<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbFWl2LjI/AAAAAAAABtY/kMUY3zwY87I/s1600-h/DSC_6496EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbFWl2LjI/AAAAAAAABtY/kMUY3zwY87I/s400/DSC_6496EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431511666874789426" border="0" /></a>She is doing so good..she has always been so good with Isabelle and Schuyler so I just knew she would be a good mom...and she is.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbFCx758I/AAAAAAAABtQ/X0KNhSUAIa0/s1600-h/DSC_6495EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbFCx758I/AAAAAAAABtQ/X0KNhSUAIa0/s400/DSC_6495EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431511661556787138" border="0" /></a>It's been so fun watching her as a mom, but so crazy all at once. I mean, remember her being born.. it makes me feel all mushy gushy and old all at once. ;o)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbF0q0E5I/AAAAAAAABtg/PtcxlF4453o/s1600-h/DSC_6508EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2CbF0q0E5I/AAAAAAAABtg/PtcxlF4453o/s400/DSC_6508EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431511674948686738" border="0" /></a>She is so young and has so many things going against her but she isn't letting any of them bring her down.. I am so proud of her for how hard good she is doing..<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2Cbp_cBmfI/AAAAAAAABt4/xB4ZtqfKtAo/s1600-h/DSC_6528EDITBW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2Cbp_cBmfI/AAAAAAAABt4/xB4ZtqfKtAo/s400/DSC_6528EDITBW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431512296314739186" border="0" /></a>Now my little baby sister has a beautiful little family of her own... so CRAZY!!!<br /><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2Cbqe8MqxI/AAAAAAAABuA/WvsOe5-Hsts/s1600-h/DSC_6606EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S2Cbqe8MqxI/AAAAAAAABuA/WvsOe5-Hsts/s400/DSC_6606EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431512304771181330" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-66586675176856174952010-01-25T15:51:00.003-05:002010-01-25T16:19:51.249-05:00Sweet, Sweet BabyMeet my new little nephew, Jaxton Mitchell<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F2mj1KPI/AAAAAAAABsQ/v6bolnDD4qs/s1600-h/DSC_6079EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F2mj1KPI/AAAAAAAABsQ/v6bolnDD4qs/s400/DSC_6079EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430784636277303538" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Seriously, he is so stinkin' sweet...so sweet! And what a good baby (so far ;o) ). He never cries. Never. No exaggeration. Happiest little newborn baby, ever. Of course he could be happy because in a house full of people there is always someone ready to cuddle with him.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F3TcHKzI/AAAAAAAABsg/_LGbPlj2aRA/s1600-h/DSC_6130EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F3TcHKzI/AAAAAAAABsg/_LGbPlj2aRA/s400/DSC_6130EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430784648324524850" border="0" /></a><br />And he smiles all the time.. they say its gas, but I know its because he loves his Auntie Jen.. afterall I am pretty much the most awesome Aunt ever! ;o)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F3h6R6SI/AAAAAAAABso/z_SCjy53CIo/s1600-h/DSC_6204EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F3h6R6SI/AAAAAAAABso/z_SCjy53CIo/s400/DSC_6204EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430784652209154338" border="0" /></a><br />And those sweet baby lips...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F29e3u3I/AAAAAAAABsY/28nmDdYufEE/s1600-h/DSC_6121EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F29e3u3I/AAAAAAAABsY/28nmDdYufEE/s400/DSC_6121EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430784642430516082" border="0" /></a><br />And look at all that strawberry blonde hair!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F4QDcfzI/AAAAAAAABsw/w7lh0Sq6G9A/s1600-h/DSC_6113EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14F4QDcfzI/AAAAAAAABsw/w7lh0Sq6G9A/s400/DSC_6113EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430784664595627826" border="0" /></a><br />And those tiny, wrinkly feet. Do they get any cuter??<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14H8B6JTEI/AAAAAAAABs4/lHqBtrONgNw/s1600-h/DSC_6133EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14H8B6JTEI/AAAAAAAABs4/lHqBtrONgNw/s400/DSC_6133EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430786928541256770" border="0" /></a><br />Don't let me fool you though, he has a stubborn streak. For example, have you ever heard of a newborn that does not like to be curled up in a ball...at all?? You try to curl him up (like most newborns absolutely love and prefer to be) and immediately out goes his little right leg and I get a pang of pain in my ribs knowing that little foot probably kicked the heck out of my little sister's ribs. Then out goes the left leg..all sprawled out just the way he likes it! I had all of these ideas for photos I wanted to take and he wouldn't cooperate at all. I'd curl him up in a little ball and position him and he would start grunting and then out would go the legs and then the arms. Jeesh. He's lucky he's cute.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14H8WWEXqI/AAAAAAAABtA/aYETsZZ7LDc/s1600-h/DSC_6380EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S14H8WWEXqI/AAAAAAAABtA/aYETsZZ7LDc/s400/DSC_6380EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430786934027083426" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-5766928377131110352010-01-15T21:07:00.003-05:002010-01-15T21:13:22.665-05:00See the resemblence??<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S1EgchTTDmI/AAAAAAAABsI/BXUYKNgosL4/s1600-h/DSC_5143.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S1EgchTTDmI/AAAAAAAABsI/BXUYKNgosL4/s400/DSC_5143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427154700305895010" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S1EgcNcraoI/AAAAAAAABsA/vFfOC6z-FDU/s1600-h/DSC_5476EDIT.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S1EgcNcraoI/AAAAAAAABsA/vFfOC6z-FDU/s400/DSC_5476EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427154694976531074" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-26638276237373654642010-01-15T10:17:00.002-05:002010-01-15T10:48:04.407-05:00Our ChristmasThere were so many pictures from Christmas that I just couldn't pick a few so I did a slideshow of them all.<br /><br />Christmas Eve we continued our tradition of going to Chops for dinner. When we reminded Isabelle where we were going to eat she said, "Oh Pap LOVES Chops!" LOL! Apparently he was really raving about it at Thanksgiving! She doesn't miss a beat, that's for sure! We had a great dinner and then headed home to unwrap our Christmas Eve jammies, sprinkle reindeer food on the front yard and get cookies ready for Santa. We also had to say goodbye to Chester our elf as he was going to be hitching a ride on Santa's sleigh back to the North Pole. Isabelle was completely taken in by the magic of Christmas. She was a little difficult to get settled down and into bed, but a reminder that Santa wouldn't come until we were all in bed settled her down pretty quick. ;o)<br /><br />Isabelle woke up at her normal time between 7:30 and 8:00.. not sure when we will start getting woken up at the crack of dawn to open presents so we treasured still being able to "sleep in". Opening presents was so much fun...even Schuyler got into it! He was a natural at present opening! He loved getting some new boy toys but I think was a bigger fan of crinkling the wrapping paper. Isabelle opened each present and then took it out of the box and played with it for awhile before moving onto the next. She wouldn't even sneak a peek to see what a present was until all of the wrapping paper was off of the box. We would say to her, "ooooh what did you get?" and she would say, "I don't know.. we will have to see!". She just had a big ol' pile of gifts and when she was done playing with what she had opened then she would open another.<br /><br />Isabelle must have been a very good girl because Santa brought her everything she asked for - the bitty twins, their stroller and the sweet lily castle. She had been such a good girl that Chester had suggested a gift for Isabelle for Santa to give her from him that he just knew she would love...and she sure did!<br /><br />Christmas evening, Brad, Nicole, Adam, Mindy, Adan and Blair all came over. Isabelle was very excited to get to play with Adan on Christmas and show him all of her presents! And as always Sky was excited to get to see his buddy, Blair!<br /><br /><p style="visibility:visible;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-a5.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="320" width="426" style="width:426px;height:320px"><param name="movie" value="http://widget-a5.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="scale" value="noscale" /><param name="salign" value="l" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/> <param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&il=1&channel=3314649325785849765&site=widget-a5.slide.com"/></object><p style="white-space:nowrap"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=3314649325785849765&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-a5.slide.com/p1/3314649325785849765/ms_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=3314649325785849765&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-a5.slide.com/p2/3314649325785849765/ms_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=3314649325785849765&map=F" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-a5.slide.com/p4/3314649325785849765/ms_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a></p></p>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-73848090699537352542010-01-05T21:51:00.001-05:002010-01-05T21:53:59.901-05:00What happens when Jason and Isabelle are left alone for too long...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7DWw5cxI/AAAAAAAABrg/voiEA_rwQ88/s1600-h/DSC_5047EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7DWw5cxI/AAAAAAAABrg/voiEA_rwQ88/s400/DSC_5047EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423454411353060114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7DBV-_DI/AAAAAAAABrY/E56E_f43g00/s1600-h/DSC_5048EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7DBV-_DI/AAAAAAAABrY/E56E_f43g00/s400/DSC_5048EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423454405603032114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7ClFSFfI/AAAAAAAABrQ/yhQjrNVkg3U/s1600-h/DSC_5052EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7ClFSFfI/AAAAAAAABrQ/yhQjrNVkg3U/s400/DSC_5052EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423454398016787954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7CIs-NUI/AAAAAAAABrI/epdLQRf10hA/s1600-h/DSC_5056EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0P7CIs-NUI/AAAAAAAABrI/epdLQRf10hA/s400/DSC_5056EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423454390398629186" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-53747505318973118202010-01-03T11:49:00.004-05:002010-01-03T12:24:51.697-05:00Sky at 6 months on his 7 month birthday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLX8iI1wI/AAAAAAAABqo/cp6n1_OlmHo/s1600-h/DSC_5228EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLX8iI1wI/AAAAAAAABqo/cp6n1_OlmHo/s400/DSC_5228EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557563600819970" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday Schuyler discovered he was the one in charge of moving his feet and toes. It was rather funny to watch. He bent over to eat his foot (naturally, because why not?) and it moved away from him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DK45uo2RI/AAAAAAAABqI/aHNvGFqiHUk/s1600-h/DSC_5260EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DK45uo2RI/AAAAAAAABqI/aHNvGFqiHUk/s400/DSC_5260EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557030271998226" border="0" /></a>He shot back up and just stared at his foot with his shocked look on his face. He sports this face a lot. I am not quite sure what that says about his personality yet. What I do know though is that I am really glad he isn't a female who will one day enter the world of eyebrow waxing and plucking only to end up with that shocked look plastered on his face forever. Whew..you dodged that bullet buddy!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLW4jrAlI/AAAAAAAABqY/b24KEIc9gF8/s1600-h/DSC_5241EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLW4jrAlI/AAAAAAAABqY/b24KEIc9gF8/s400/DSC_5241EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557545353642578" border="0" /></a><br />Anyway, he just started at this foot that he has been chewing on for months now as if he was seeing it for the first time. Then he arched it back and seriously gasped when it moved. He just kept moving it back and forth, back and forth. All the while never taking his eyes off his foot (probably for fear that it was going to jump up and attack him..you really never know what those feet are going to do, you know.).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLxHTRtlI/AAAAAAAABq4/pAxFwHr2aJE/s1600-h/DSC_5225EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLxHTRtlI/AAAAAAAABq4/pAxFwHr2aJE/s400/DSC_5225EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557995988006482" border="0" /></a>Then he started moving his toes. This was all just too much for him to handle (not to mention he had been sitting still for entirely too long) so he started doing the "Schuyler squeal" (which closely resembles that of the sound we imagine a pterodactyl would make) and resuming his normal, constantly squirming self while continuing to stare at these feet that he can now move.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLXTDqqsI/AAAAAAAABqg/Z44rEkVU4w8/s1600-h/DSC_5291EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLXTDqqsI/AAAAAAAABqg/Z44rEkVU4w8/s400/DSC_5291EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557552467159746" border="0" /></a>Along with his newfound love for moving his tiny toes, he has also discovered the joy of tossing toys from the highchair and watching Mommy, Daddy and Izzy take turns picking them up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLxQCgM9I/AAAAAAAABrA/EjrzTgOL5TM/s1600-h/DSC_5230EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLxQCgM9I/AAAAAAAABrA/EjrzTgOL5TM/s400/DSC_5230EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557998333572050" border="0" /></a>The game's getting old Buddy, real old.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DK5FqHnOI/AAAAAAAABqQ/FNEP6_KXm80/s1600-h/DSC_5231EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DK5FqHnOI/AAAAAAAABqQ/FNEP6_KXm80/s400/DSC_5231EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557033474268386" border="0" /></a>Still no teeth have broken through but that doesn't mean he is working on them. I was a little skeptical with how the teething experience was going to go because he seemed to be taking the same route as Isabelle (very whiney..not sleeping..just flat out AWFUL!!!) but a detour seems to have been made. At least for the time being. Boy are those gums swollen. I am wondering if we will have a gummy baby for much longer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DK4bwAH_I/AAAAAAAABqA/FBHmLB4EFFo/s1600-h/DSC_5266EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DK4bwAH_I/AAAAAAAABqA/FBHmLB4EFFo/s400/DSC_5266EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557022224654322" border="0" /></a>He sure is a happy little guy and boy oh boy does he love his sissy and Daddy! He goes nuts when Jason is in his line of sight and he will twist himself every which way when he hears his voice. It is so dear though. He loves when Isabelle sings and plays with him. She has been so great at including him in her little make believe world. I am sure that will all change when he develops an opinion or doesn't do exactly what she wants him to do or sit where she wants him to sit. But for now we are enjoying how they get along. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLYJLvw3I/AAAAAAAABqw/w2DeoZCM1VU/s1600-h/DSC_5278EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DLYJLvw3I/AAAAAAAABqw/w2DeoZCM1VU/s400/DSC_5278EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422557566996562802" border="0" /></a>Sleep is going well too. Hallelujah! It's about time. We've had some rough goes with sleep for what feels like a really long time. Either he was up at night or she was up at night or one of them wouldn't nap well in the afternoon. It was a tired time in the Koons' house but Isabelle has been sleeping until 7:30-8:00 and so has Sky. He finally has his naps figured out as well. We turned the corner at around 6 months with some sleep normalcy and I hope we can continue forward without looking back. We'll see.. I shudder when I remember the run of sleepless nights we endured.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>I don't remember his 6 month stats from his appointment...I would have to look at the paper and I am not sure where that is. I do remember he was still 25% for both height and weight and developing right in line with where he should be. We go back Weds for his second seasonal flu shot so I am going to have him weighed then. Hopefully I will remember that number. We'll see.<br /><br />Will post pics from Christmas soon. I have to upload them all from the computer..maybe today.. we'll see.Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-88090175804638958982010-01-03T11:10:00.002-05:002010-01-03T11:48:50.324-05:00The Queen of QuestionsIsabelle has always been a talker. She started talking early and she hasn't stopped since. She falls asleep talking...she wakes up talking. I have become one of those people that sometimes doesn't even hear my own kid talking. You know, the ones where you are in public and the kid is saying, "Mom....Mom...Mom...MOM" over and over and you just want to say, "OMG LADY ANSWER YOUR KID". Yep, that's me. I now understand those those people though. When you hear a sound 24/7 for 3 years sometimes it becomes white noise. Lately, I have had the inability to tune out this constant babbling. Most of the time it was her singing or talking with her dolls and didn't require me to constantly be listening. Now it is questions...a lot of them.. most of them I am not even sure what the answer is supposed to be.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DBvt36nNI/AAAAAAAABpw/n_Rscl2bRto/s1600-h/DSC_5211EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DBvt36nNI/AAAAAAAABpw/n_Rscl2bRto/s400/DSC_5211EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422546976866213074" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Why is my doll going to bed?<br />Can I watch a movie?<br />Can I have a drink?<br />Why did Santa send an elf to our house?<br />Why do my pajama's have pockets?<br />When can I watch a movie?<br />Why is Schuyler sleeping?<br />Why does Schuyler look like a statue when he is sleeping?<br />Why are you standing up?<br />Why are there Little Ponies in with the Snap and Style dolls?<br />Why did Daddy let me watch Scooby Dooby Doo?<br />Why is it cold out?<br />Why did Grandma Sipe want me to wear a bib?<br />Can we go on vacation with Gammy and Papoo?<br />Can we talk about when I can watch a movie?<br />Did Aunt Courtney get a new house?<br />What is Emily's brother's name again?<br />Where is Aunt Jess's baby?<br />Where are we going?<br />Why are we getting dressed?<br />Why are you putting my clothes away?<br />What is this?<br />What is making that "squeak" sound?<br />Can you tell me about the doorknocker in the Christmas Carol again?<br />Can I play with Schuyler?<br />Can you ask Mel-Mel if we can have a playdate at her house with Jack?<br /><br />*Beating head against wall* AHHHHHHHH!!! I could go on and on.. most of these questions were just asked within the past half hour. The more tired she is the more questions she starts asking. I should have asked for ear plugs for Christmas!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DBvCE3P1I/AAAAAAAABpo/KXMFvE8dbgE/s1600-h/DSC_5215EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DBvCE3P1I/AAAAAAAABpo/KXMFvE8dbgE/s400/DSC_5215EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422546965109358418" border="0" /></a><br />I don't even like being asked or answering questions...too many questions gives me anxiety. It was one of the (many) things that drove me crazy in the working world..all of the questions that would be asked....most of them questions that didn't need to be asked...the worst kind in m book. The past 3 years have been nice being away from the constant asking of questions but now I like with the Queen of Questions. She is lucky she is cute.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DBwFClqkI/AAAAAAAABp4/yLg9Vj4vJuM/s1600-h/DSC_5204EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/S0DBwFClqkI/AAAAAAAABp4/yLg9Vj4vJuM/s400/DSC_5204EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422546983084993090" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-91272610018922663382009-12-28T08:47:00.002-05:002009-12-28T08:49:59.935-05:00First Snow<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/Szi3Ke26AdI/AAAAAAAABpI/SznxfyrzP_I/s1600-h/DSC_5195EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/Szi3Ke26AdI/AAAAAAAABpI/SznxfyrzP_I/s400/DSC_5195EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420283542250324434" border="0" /></a>The day everyone back East was getting pounded with snow we got some snow of our own.. maybe not 14 inches like they ended up with but enough for playing and snowman building!Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-46889374134118699822009-12-23T21:58:00.002-05:002009-12-23T22:04:59.314-05:00Merry Christmas!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLZGvH1f-I/AAAAAAAABng/bykLPWgFNoE/s1600-h/DSC_4765EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLZGvH1f-I/AAAAAAAABng/bykLPWgFNoE/s400/DSC_4765EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418632011431903202" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLZHGPi8uI/AAAAAAAABno/UwoaOVx5FQw/s1600-h/DSC_4832EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLZHGPi8uI/AAAAAAAABno/UwoaOVx5FQw/s400/DSC_4832EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418632017638257378" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-69472347310242098872009-12-23T21:40:00.003-05:002009-12-23T21:58:44.016-05:00My 3 Favorite People<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLU2xKxS7I/AAAAAAAABnI/n0aWg5xDXmc/s1600-h/DSC_4632EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLU2xKxS7I/AAAAAAAABnI/n0aWg5xDXmc/s400/DSC_4632EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418627339056663474" border="0" /></a>Sure they are all in their pj's (I have no clue why Isabelle is wearing bottoms from one set and a top from another!), but I just love this photo. Its nothing special, but they had no clue I was taking it and for some reason it just speaks to me. It makes me feel happy. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLU3W97JQI/AAAAAAAABnQ/_vItfJbjwXM/s1600-h/DSC_4654EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLU3W97JQI/AAAAAAAABnQ/_vItfJbjwXM/s400/DSC_4654EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418627349203330306" border="0" /></a>And this goofball, I am convinced, is dead set on giving herself the most chapped lips ever. I have no clue why but winter arrived and she's always got that tongue of hers out licking her lips.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLXOrfM4EI/AAAAAAAABnY/_aXrGlgdd3g/s1600-h/DSC_4721EDITBW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzLXOrfM4EI/AAAAAAAABnY/_aXrGlgdd3g/s400/DSC_4721EDITBW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418629948871860290" border="0" /></a>My favorite part of the day is going to check on the kids before going to bed. I especially love it now that Sky rolls to his side or belly. He just looks so cute all curled up sleeping there like a little person. Isabelle is always on her back totally sprawled out. Sometimes at the bottom of the bed, but always on her back, legs spread, arms by her side. That's how she slept as a baby too. She never rolled onto her belly to sleep and she didn't fancy sleeping on her side...on her back, sprawled out and at that time her arms were both up beside her head. I wonder if Sky will be a belly sleeper like his Mama or a side sleeper like his Daddy...or maybe he'll end up sprawled out back sleeper like his big sissy.Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-67470075353663106052009-12-19T10:15:00.002-05:002009-12-19T10:19:49.685-05:00How we rollLast tractor ride of the season...not sure who was sadder about that, Isabelle or Jason! Yes, they are trying to run me over with the tractor...evidence in case something ever happens to me. ;o)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyzuRcAdwkI/AAAAAAAABnA/9Z9q70Af2kw/s1600-h/DSC_4536EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyzuRcAdwkI/AAAAAAAABnA/9Z9q70Af2kw/s400/DSC_4536EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416966435163193922" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-175197964696571582009-12-19T09:53:00.003-05:002009-12-19T10:15:28.758-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyzpGiERu4I/AAAAAAAABmw/4EimTg_8MOw/s1600-h/DSC_4431EDITBW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyzpGiERu4I/AAAAAAAABmw/4EimTg_8MOw/s400/DSC_4431EDITBW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416960750253095810" border="0" /></a>During the remodel of the kids' bathroom, Schuyler's make-shift bathtub has become the kitchen sink. He has been loving getting baths in the sink and I like it too because it forces me stay on top of the dishes!<br /><br />Jason is working on the bathroom this morning before he goes to help Adam and Mindy move into their new house. Of course it hasn't snowed yet this season and it snowed last night. Looks like its still coming down too. I am not sure how much we are supposed to end up with. I hope it stops for the move..then it can start back up again!<br /><br />Tonight we have a sitter for Sky and we are taking Isabelle to the Holiday Pops concert. She and I went and saw the Nutcracker ballet a few weeks ago. She was in awe the entire time. I wasn't sure if she would get the story since there aren't any words but she caught everything. I was amazed and it was so fun to watch her be taken by the story. Everytime a song from the nutcracker is played on tv or the radio she will point it out. Since she has been so into the musical part we thought we would take her to the Holiday Pops concert tonight. I think she is most excited about dressing up. I thought she would be excited that it is just her, mommy and daddy but she keeps asking why Schuyler isn't coming along and worrying about if his feelings will be hurt. How sweet.<br /><br />Since I have figured out that I can email pics from my phone...here is one of her at the Nutcracker. I think she will be wearing the same dress tonight. I had a different one planned but she informed me last night that this was the dress she wanted to wear.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyztuaaBu3I/AAAAAAAABm4/rVIGUBq9Azk/s1600-h/downsized_1203091906.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyztuaaBu3I/AAAAAAAABm4/rVIGUBq9Azk/s400/downsized_1203091906.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416965833438116722" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-53507096286473528272009-12-17T21:51:00.003-05:002009-12-17T21:58:20.534-05:00Christmas CountdownIsabelle and Jason made a countdown to Christmas paper chain together. Every night when they do jammies and storytime they also tear off a link. One night they forgot and at about 10:30 we hear her screaming. She was crying because they had forgotten to do a link that night. Poor kid.. she definitely gets that honest from me. I generally wake up once a night in a panic remembering something I forgot to do the day before. The sad part is that I forget about it the next day and so he cycle of remembering in the middle of the night goes on for a few days. Its a sick, sick cycle.. I am starting to think I have actually developed ADD the past few years!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/Syrve5wKqhI/AAAAAAAABmo/cr4BVqC1RZU/s1600-h/DSC_4665EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/Syrve5wKqhI/AAAAAAAABmo/cr4BVqC1RZU/s400/DSC_4665EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416404816044403218" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-70435044563812159582009-12-17T20:01:00.002-05:002009-12-17T20:06:37.694-05:00Honey BunsHow Isabelle is happiest...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyrUyZf5oRI/AAAAAAAABmg/UpICOgjmVWQ/s1600-h/DSC_4725EDITBW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SyrUyZf5oRI/AAAAAAAABmg/UpICOgjmVWQ/s400/DSC_4725EDITBW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416375464169677074" border="0" /></a><br />Why in the world can't I get this girl to keep her pants on!?! Thank goodness she does at school.. well at least so far!<br />Besides the cute little hiney you can also see the back of Isabelle's hair. She got her hair cut a few weeks ago and got quite a few inches cut off the back. She also got some layers and it frames her face really nicely. I was a little sad cutting so much off but it was just so long and got tangled so easily. We are both really loving it this length!Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1538758226703870930.post-84393143500642115382009-12-10T20:45:00.000-05:002009-12-27T20:59:47.357-05:00Thanksgiving<div style="text-align: center;">Baking Pie with Mel-Mel<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOPbWqCyI/AAAAAAAABoA/F8sck1bBSeE/s1600-h/DSC_4573EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOPbWqCyI/AAAAAAAABoA/F8sck1bBSeE/s400/DSC_4573EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420097809744005922" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Pumpkin Martini's.. yum!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOOxTgKyI/AAAAAAAABn4/DMfSE228w9g/s1600-h/DSC_4586EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOOxTgKyI/AAAAAAAABn4/DMfSE228w9g/s400/DSC_4586EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420097798456486690" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOOXN4ZLI/AAAAAAAABnw/NUANDtVtY4A/s1600-h/DSC_4592EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOOXN4ZLI/AAAAAAAABnw/NUANDtVtY4A/s400/DSC_4592EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420097791453586610" border="0" /></a><br />Jason mashing the potatoes in our super cool green plastic bowl.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOdaT-dpI/AAAAAAAABoY/dFUp8-CyhDM/s1600-h/DSC_4595EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOdaT-dpI/AAAAAAAABoY/dFUp8-CyhDM/s400/DSC_4595EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098049982494354" border="0" /></a><br />Sweet potatoes... yum!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOcxu-8GI/AAAAAAAABoQ/Up76bu1WN5Q/s1600-h/DSC_4598EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOcxu-8GI/AAAAAAAABoQ/Up76bu1WN5Q/s400/DSC_4598EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098039089918050" border="0" /></a><br />Mel cooking<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOcfHHC8I/AAAAAAAABoI/IcSPE3KOIos/s1600-h/DSC_4594EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOcfHHC8I/AAAAAAAABoI/IcSPE3KOIos/s400/DSC_4594EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098034090838978" border="0" /></a><br />Mushrooms and shallots sauteing for best green beans ever! Oh so good!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOtc6MPLI/AAAAAAAABow/AeBDUqKL2TU/s1600-h/DSC_4599EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOtc6MPLI/AAAAAAAABow/AeBDUqKL2TU/s400/DSC_4599EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098325557558450" border="0" /></a>The result of a big delicious meal<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOs-fATrI/AAAAAAAABoo/kQPcE2Wd61w/s1600-h/DSC_4603EDITBW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOs-fATrI/AAAAAAAABoo/kQPcE2Wd61w/s400/DSC_4603EDITBW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098317390466738" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOsT7KDgI/AAAAAAAABog/lbENN7RJsn4/s1600-h/DSC_4605EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgOsT7KDgI/AAAAAAAABog/lbENN7RJsn4/s400/DSC_4605EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098305965821442" border="0" /></a>Coloring with Mel-Mel<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgO6Ptr3vI/AAAAAAAABpA/ns2z84v-4T0/s1600-h/DSC_4621EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgO6Ptr3vI/AAAAAAAABpA/ns2z84v-4T0/s400/DSC_4621EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098545353744114" border="0" /></a><br />Sky's first Thanksgiving<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgO5aiNDVI/AAAAAAAABo4/T0zxQ1KGDxk/s1600-h/DSC_4613EDIT.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NZFvY6yDAjk/SzgO5aiNDVI/AAAAAAAABo4/T0zxQ1KGDxk/s400/DSC_4613EDIT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420098531078507858" border="0" /></a>Izzy'sMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13327701767087440328noreply@blogger.com0