<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:14:43.049-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home... Sometimes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>147</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2846283057094239798</id><published>2010-07-01T17:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T17:27:27.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arlington Race Track</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Arlington National Race track is actually a beautiful race track in the suburbs of Chicago. Because of my sweet son's obsession of race horses we planned a trip to see the Arlington Downs. It's nothing like the Kentucky Derby or Belmont, but it's the closest thing to this neck of the woods. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyWY0FoE1I/AAAAAAAABsc/EeAG59Me9pw/s1600/DSC02531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488927398901060434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyWY0FoE1I/AAAAAAAABsc/EeAG59Me9pw/s320/DSC02531.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The grounds are actually very articulate and beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyWYQ6C9VI/AAAAAAAABsU/2epzJUSz3e0/s1600/DSC02532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488927389457249618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyWYQ6C9VI/AAAAAAAABsU/2epzJUSz3e0/s320/DSC02532.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was such a HOT day, that we found ourselves spending lots of time in the shade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUjvoHKNI/AAAAAAAABsM/FfPwvogmLaM/s1600/DSC02530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488925387658832082" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUjvoHKNI/AAAAAAAABsM/FfPwvogmLaM/s320/DSC02530.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tye told me that my dress was ridiculous, he literally said. "Please tell me your not wearing that...." Sorry I thought, I'm not taking fashion advice from a 9 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUjGDYhZI/AAAAAAAABsE/5yoZYr4LyDY/s1600/DSC02529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488925376498926994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUjGDYhZI/AAAAAAAABsE/5yoZYr4LyDY/s320/DSC02529.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sissy, didn't mind the dress, we actually matched a little!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUimirt2I/AAAAAAAABr8/L-8sE8053g8/s1600/DSC02528.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488925368040273762" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUimirt2I/AAAAAAAABr8/L-8sE8053g8/s320/DSC02528.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Before each race, the trainers, jockeys and horse hands prepare the horses for the race, then they do a small parade in the Paddock. It's tradition that each member of the family picks the horse they think is going to win the race. Our betting is usually something like this. If a jockey or horse has ANY sign of Pink on it's saddle blanket or silks, it's Taylor's horse. If a horse is Black, he's got Tate's bet. Wes always reads the program and looks at the stats and makes his bet. (Which he usually wins) Tye, well I can't figure out Tye for the life of me, I'm not even going to attempt his philosophies on horse betting. I usually just pick the one I like best, no strategies and I usually loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488925348404024018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUhdZCUtI/AAAAAAAABrs/o_wLsrI4Mss/s320/DSC02523.JPG" /&gt;Pretty soon the horn sounds the music starts and we run to the track...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUh8Wo9XI/AAAAAAAABr0/-UaJGxThHkA/s1600/DSC02524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488925356715472242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyUh8Wo9XI/AAAAAAAABr0/-UaJGxThHkA/s320/DSC02524.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's actually pretty amazing to see these horses run 50 mph past you. The winning member of the family usually jumps up and down as they post the winners, then there is the typical fighting over why the other horse's didn't win(the excuses my kids come up with would floor you) but then the cycle repeats itself every 24 minutes!&lt;br /&gt;Call us crazy, but it's pretty fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2846283057094239798?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2846283057094239798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2846283057094239798&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2846283057094239798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2846283057094239798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/07/arlington-race-track.html' title='Arlington Race Track'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TCyWY0FoE1I/AAAAAAAABsc/EeAG59Me9pw/s72-c/DSC02531.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1642606097267543496</id><published>2010-06-24T04:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T07:35:29.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Branding 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every year we head to Wyoming to brand Grandpa's cows. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I asked Tate to tell me how it's done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Remember the following words come from my 7 year old son.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484977780815133746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6OOyJlfDI/AAAAAAAABqk/s9R-8qkfz_c/s320/May+2010+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;First of all, you saddle the horses.  Well at least us cowboys do. I rode Hank.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484980410034829666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6Qn0waOWI/AAAAAAAABq8/Gxt4MBAhMyk/s320/May+2010+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Then you have to round the cows up, Mom's are "Mooing" really loud because they don't want you to take their babies.  But we give them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6Qo2PheGI/AAAAAAAABrE/bfLPEtLID74/s1600/May+2010+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484977823805109154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6ORSTMc6I/AAAAAAAABq0/SUvgvFouSHA/s320/May+2010+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Then you wrestle the calf to the ground and hold them down.  Sometimes their legs slip and you get kicked, like last year when Dad broke his nose and all that blood came out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6Qp7LNE9I/AAAAAAAABrM/-aDJH-BaRYo/s1600/May+2010+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484980446117565394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6Qp7LNE9I/AAAAAAAABrM/-aDJH-BaRYo/s320/May+2010+040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We took turns sitting on Dad's lap holding the branding iron, I'm not old enough yet. Dad thinks we might get burned. The smoke stinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6OQs4DLKI/AAAAAAAABqs/PulUptVoCh8/s1600/May+2010+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484977813759143074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6OQs4DLKI/AAAAAAAABqs/PulUptVoCh8/s320/May+2010+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then grandpa starts cutting the balls out.  (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;castrating&lt;/span&gt;) We took turns holding the balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484980478677527042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6Qr0eGqgI/AAAAAAAABrc/PMUrkaJ3cbk/s320/May+2010+051.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Even Sissy held the balls, I kept pretending I was going to eat them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484980457451469714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6QqlZau5I/AAAAAAAABrU/B5U5aRiMAXU/s320/May+2010+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Tye helped grandpa give the shots, he didn't want to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6ONnfiq3I/AAAAAAAABqU/HW-V1-b-xJA/s1600/May+2010+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484977760774564722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6ONnfiq3I/AAAAAAAABqU/HW-V1-b-xJA/s320/May+2010+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We ran around and played with Luke, Cole, Jake, Tucker and Sadie.  The smoke stinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484982439463442802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6Sd895WXI/AAAAAAAABrk/-n0dMSLbgpU/s320/May+2010+059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The best part is at the end when we get to ride the calves.  Yea Baby!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484977773984309506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6OOYs_YQI/AAAAAAAABqc/F497x0qCCwA/s320/May+2010+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1642606097267543496?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1642606097267543496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1642606097267543496&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1642606097267543496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1642606097267543496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/06/branding-2010.html' title='Branding 2010'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6OOyJlfDI/AAAAAAAABqk/s9R-8qkfz_c/s72-c/May+2010+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3133434261362131938</id><published>2010-06-20T04:09:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T16:29:12.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New York, NY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In May I had the best trip in the world to New York, NY. We ate, ate &amp;amp; ate. We shopped, shopped and shopped. We saw the sights, went to 2 plays (Wicked &amp;amp; In the Heights - which I loved both), went to the museums, took a bus tour, got heckled by street vendors, rode the subway, took lots of pictures, met some wacky people, and laughed and laughed and laughed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was honestly a very fabulous trip, completely fascinating for this Wisconsin Girl...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We went and saw the Statue of Liberty...but it is actually really small! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The movies make it look big, but it's really not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484785701621551538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3fiTZLUbI/AAAAAAAABpU/1MMfcI1wSqE/s320/IMG_2222.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But the streets of New York are even more insane in person! The people, noise, honking taxi's, smells, funky &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;getups&lt;/span&gt; and men in suits running everywhere is exactly what you see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484781479585554018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3bsjFWnmI/AAAAAAAABn0/-oz_DbpSjI8/s320/DSC02186.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Central Park is actually very amazing. It's the only spot of peace and quit and normalcy. You see children playing and Dad's playing catch with their sons, but literally the children in New York City grow up on the streets. It is also HUGE, spanning many city blocks. But I completely understand why New Yorkers covet this park. (I would to if I lived there!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3fi5NYliI/AAAAAAAABpc/NPmuZx1VKws/s1600/IMG_2343.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484785721279839458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3fjcoE_OI/AAAAAAAABpk/092oFk3keqA/s320/IMG_2344.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We took a boat ride and had brunch at the boat house. It was also fun to see all the locations that movies were shot at. You almost felt that you had been there before. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3dUB5hTHI/AAAAAAAABpM/6gZOoo3RHWU/s1600/IMG_2336.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484783257383947378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3dUB5hTHI/AAAAAAAABpM/6gZOoo3RHWU/s320/IMG_2336.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I mentioned that we shopped. But we Really Shopped! We took a behind the scenes shopping &amp;amp; clothing tour in the garment district. I have no sense of fashion, but I pretended for a day! Luckily I had the right girls with me to help me out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484781495915561826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3btf6uw2I/AAAAAAAABn8/MSaAJ8VRE8E/s320/DSC02199.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did shop, literally till we dropped!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cuI9VppI/AAAAAAAABoc/6VdM1r8LNl0/s1600/DSC02238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484782606443980434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cuI9VppI/AAAAAAAABoc/6VdM1r8LNl0/s320/DSC02238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But you can't help yourself! The shopping is indescribable, and fashion is such a part of life. Now let's put this in perspective. I live in De &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pere&lt;/span&gt; Wisconsin, the anchor stores in the mall are Kohl's and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shopko&lt;/span&gt;, although we do have a Yonkers! But my daily life consists of jeans and a sweatshirt, maybe an occasional set of earrings. Seriously, I hardly ever dress up. I'm a Mom and I have 8,000 cattle in my backyard. Plus, who wears pearls to the baseball field? So to spend 6 days feasting on how cute I could be....was fun!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The highlight of the shopping was at Tiffany's where we all got matching Tiffany Toggle bracelets with matching Tiffany charms, it is a beautiful bracelet, but it's the memories and experience behind it that make it so special!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484964369006045234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6CCHRHqDI/AAAAAAAABp8/HuTOQ4KgquM/s320/DSC02228.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also mentioned that we ate. This is the most truthful statement, I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;NeVeR&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;iN&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;LiFe&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;aTe&lt;/span&gt; So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;WeLL&lt;/span&gt;. The food actually had flavor, it was actually hot and I actually indulged at almost every meal, including breakfast. I have tried to erase the amount of food we consumed, but the memories are still there, and the fact that I had to wear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;strechy&lt;/span&gt; pants on the airplane home didn't even bother me! My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tastebuds&lt;/span&gt; were in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;HeAveN&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cvavpUOI/AAAAAAAABo0/Eu1TFrmpKI4/s1600/DSC02299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484782628398256354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cvavpUOI/AAAAAAAABo0/Eu1TFrmpKI4/s320/DSC02299.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Serendipity was amazing...I LOVED the frozen Hot Chocolate....even writing about if makes me homesick for NY. When I am in Vegas in August, I might just go straight from the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cu39SN6I/AAAAAAAABos/YE6vewo9q_c/s1600/DSC02296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484782619060221858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cu39SN6I/AAAAAAAABos/YE6vewo9q_c/s320/DSC02296.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The dessert...well you can see for yourself! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We ate at so many places....Sweet Pea's, Mary Beth's, lunch at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Saxs&lt;/span&gt;.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484781513116702594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3buf_zV4I/AAAAAAAABoU/PrWIr2lXeW4/s320/DSC02235.JPG" border="0" /&gt;But the cream of the crop was "High Noon Tea" at the Plaza....Honesty - Over the Top! Our food was served on three tier platters...and trust me the atmosphere, the food, the service, the whole experience was seriously divine! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484964422638384050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6CFPEEM7I/AAAAAAAABqM/w697qsh7D8I/s320/IMG_2241.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Church, and that was quite the experience. You are walking along streets of high rise building and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;bam&lt;/span&gt; there you are, a Church and a temple! It's so bizarre, and then you see families coming out of the subways just walking in. I think that it is difficult to get to church, but I need to stop complaining! If I had to catch a taxi or cab....couldn't imagine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cuZQcBSI/AAAAAAAABok/J-CiS6Tz9VI/s1600/DSC02244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484782610819056930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cuZQcBSI/AAAAAAAABok/J-CiS6Tz9VI/s320/DSC02244.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time Square is also a little extraordinary, the lights, action - it reminds me of Vegas without all the yucky magazines.  It's busy 24 hours a day, and some weirdo's seem to emerge after hours!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484964330532791490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6B_38YZMI/AAAAAAAABps/5wgkjAndoRA/s320/DSC02196.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also had to visit Rockefeller Center, and even though I was not about to get up at 4:&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;oo&lt;/span&gt; in the morning for the Today show or Good Morning America, it was fun to see where the filmed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484964351055562546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB6CBEZZBzI/AAAAAAAABp0/QryilONO-Qc/s320/DSC02193.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New York is difficult to explain, it is enormous, and it's a good thing I had great tour guides because I would still be lost. We went to this observatory and you can really get a glimpse of it's massiveness! Plus we had a great shot of it at Dusk....it was beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484782634776531826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3cvygWE3I/AAAAAAAABo8/VtsJedYL73c/s320/DSC02310.JPG" border="0" /&gt; I loved New York and I also love who I went with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Susan, Andrea &amp;amp; Ashley I love you Dearly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thank you for a trip of a lifetime!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484783247680106802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3dTdv8cTI/AAAAAAAABpE/Xfg-QXCv4pg/s320/DSC02315.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3133434261362131938?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3133434261362131938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3133434261362131938&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3133434261362131938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3133434261362131938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/06/new-york-ny.html' title='New York, NY'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/TB3fiTZLUbI/AAAAAAAABpU/1MMfcI1wSqE/s72-c/IMG_2222.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-9201476677434772196</id><published>2010-05-26T20:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T21:32:36.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tougher than the Rest...</title><content type='html'>Well new callings come and life changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you know my husband personally, and many do not. The words I would use to describe him are tough, simple and pure. He truly is a cowboy - not the wrangler/hat/belt buckle cowboy, but the tough, rough and rugged cowboy, who really knows how to brand cattle and ride horses!&lt;br /&gt;He loves to have fun, and is a dare devil at times. (Especially when he is around his brother and our brother in law) They are also his best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOPfkc9oI/AAAAAAAABms/b3EgYekuc4U/s1600/Backup+647.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469637406776686210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOPfkc9oI/AAAAAAAABms/b3EgYekuc4U/s320/Backup+647.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOP9NYrsI/AAAAAAAABm0/3GRlC8TKI9Q/s1600/Backup+053.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He would rather live in this pack tent and live off the land than have the biggest house in the world. He is very simple in his wants and wishes in this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOOlBAV4I/AAAAAAAABmk/gqDxzxlGAsQ/s1600/Backup+583.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469637391058753410" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOOlBAV4I/AAAAAAAABmk/gqDxzxlGAsQ/s320/Backup+583.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves loves loves loves loves hunting. (It is something I really don't understand, but try my best to support this obsession...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gONQXoOLI/AAAAAAAABmc/WkM77IR46Z4/s1600/Backup+569.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469637368336627890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gONQXoOLI/AAAAAAAABmc/WkM77IR46Z4/s320/Backup+569.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOM0NzbvI/AAAAAAAABmU/-E_t2h0j5Uk/s1600/Backup+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469637360779226866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOM0NzbvI/AAAAAAAABmU/-E_t2h0j5Uk/s320/Backup+009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And although I have yet to see him actually catch a fish, he loves to fly fish, and refuses to give up. (I should note that he has caught fish...I have just never seen it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is very easy going, and "If" he likes you, be prepared to be endlessly teased. Most of the time you can find him at the ranch, trying consistently to make life better for everyone around him. He is honest, devoted and such a blessing to me, and our children. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do not misunderstand me, I'm not the type of girl that pretends to live in a happy little dream world. We fight, we argue and many days I have to remind myself I love him because I have moments I don't necessarily like him. (Ask my sister, she is the one who gets the phone calls as I'm driving down the road to check into a hotel...but never really do).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also pretty selfish of his time, and like to keep him to myself. So needless to say when he got called into the Bishopric a few weeks ago I had very different emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXh8RUzTI/AAAAAAAABnM/iBX6cgAJftY/s1600/DSC02112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469647619323383090" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXh8RUzTI/AAAAAAAABnM/iBX6cgAJftY/s320/DSC02112.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have had many sacred moments in my life, but I will never forget watching him take his walk to the stand, and getting set apart as the new 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; counselor. What a moment to Cherish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so eternally grateful to be a member of a Church that allows everyday men &amp;amp; women to serve God. To be a member of a Church that forgives us of our shortcomings and allows us to grow closer to Christ through service to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's going to be hard to have him away and I could really list about 2,590 reasons to complain, but I'm trying to have a good attitude. (I will not mention what it was like to get the family to Church on my own the first week and I will have to repent of the bad thoughts I had the entire trip...but I am trying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXgnoaRlI/AAAAAAAABm8/ktWXcQkxADU/s1600/DSC02108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469647596603197010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXgnoaRlI/AAAAAAAABm8/ktWXcQkxADU/s320/DSC02108.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXi5Rm6iI/AAAAAAAABnU/_wb7pyORxhA/s1600/DSC02117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469647635699132962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXi5Rm6iI/AAAAAAAABnU/_wb7pyORxhA/s320/DSC02117.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The nice part was having the support of family &amp;amp; friends in this new adventure. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wes's&lt;/span&gt; Dad &amp;amp; Uncle Ron came out for the ordination, and it was such a blessing to have family with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's to change, and here's too my "tougher than the rest" cowboy who has a lot of work a head of him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gXhV4MRpI/AAAAAAAABnE/Q67MB3XCFXM/s1600/DSC02110.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-9201476677434772196?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/9201476677434772196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=9201476677434772196&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/9201476677434772196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/9201476677434772196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/tougher-than-rest.html' title='Tougher than the Rest...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-gOPfkc9oI/AAAAAAAABms/b3EgYekuc4U/s72-c/Backup+647.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-7776484248166300340</id><published>2010-05-17T21:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T22:03:14.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Yet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px; VISIBILITY: hidden" border="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI3NDE1MTE3MDM1NyZwdD*xMjc*MTUxMTk2NDg3JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz1lZWY*NmNkMWMwN2Q*/ODkxYjYzMmY5ZDJmNmFmZTIxMiZvZj*w.gif" width="0" height="0" /&gt;Taylor came to me recently and said..."Mom my front tooth is loose." I could only think of one thing. I'm not ready for the toothless/ugly/big teeth/small face stage that all kids enter. I hate that stage!!! She's my baby and I love the baby teeth! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Needless to say I had to do some quick pictures before the inevitable.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm not ready for this, not yet!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http%3A%2F%2Fw421.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fpp292%2Fhomesweethomesometimes%2Fb6618f75.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=b6618f75.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-7776484248166300340?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/7776484248166300340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=7776484248166300340&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7776484248166300340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7776484248166300340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post.html' title='Not Yet!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4311144359977717985</id><published>2010-05-10T20:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T06:45:25.375-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Roosters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mothers day is always a little interesting...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:54: Tate comes stumbling out of bed rubbing his eyes looking at the clock.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:55: "Mom, why are you awake, it's Mothers Day?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Little does he know I've already been up for an hour, did the dishes from the night before, found Taylor's church shoes, checked my email, copied handouts for young women's the list goes on...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:55 1/2: Mom to Son. "Thanks for remembering it's Mothers Day, would you like me to open your present?" Tate brought a present home from school on Thursday and he's been dying for me to open it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:56 Son to Mom. "No, I want you to go back to bed so I can bring you breakfast."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:561/2 Mom to Son. "That's so nice of you, buy Mom has already started breakfast." (We had company staying with us. Sourdough pancakes, were on the way, thanks to the Uncle Ron tradition).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:57 Son to Mom. "Can we get a rooster?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:57 1/4 Mom to Son. "What?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:57 1/2 Son to Mom. "A rooster, maybe then, I can wake up early than you in the morning?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:58 Mom to Son. "I'll think about it." (We already have 7478 head of cattle, 3 horses, 2 lambs which is an entire story I have yet to post and 1 dog and 1 dog that wants to join our family).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son runs off to play....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:03 Son to Mom. "Have you thought about it?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:03 1/2 Mom to Son. "Thought about what?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:04 Son to Mom. "Duh....the Rooster...."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:05 Mom to Son. "Oh, not yet, Do we really need one more thing that poops around here?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:06 Son to Mom. "Your so mean, you never let us have anything....."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:06 1/2 The moment I realized I'm really not a huge fan&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-k_11KE41I/AAAAAAAABnk/JnVALw-AY8M/s1600/T+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469973416453137234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-k_11KE41I/AAAAAAAABnk/JnVALw-AY8M/s320/T+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of Mothers Day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tate did make me a little CD Cover&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Happy Meter's Day"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Inside, he drew a picture of me and a photo of him.  At least he drew me skinny....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-k_2QaBsfI/AAAAAAAABns/6kbEIsDRyvs/s1600/T+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469973423767794162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-k_2QaBsfI/AAAAAAAABns/6kbEIsDRyvs/s320/T+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-k_11KE41I/AAAAAAAABnk/JnVALw-AY8M/s1600/T+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4311144359977717985?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4311144359977717985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4311144359977717985&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4311144359977717985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4311144359977717985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/roosters.html' title='Roosters'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S-k_11KE41I/AAAAAAAABnk/JnVALw-AY8M/s72-c/T+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1777912291471776930</id><published>2010-05-08T10:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T10:27:21.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I find myself asking the same questions.....over and over.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1.  How come my kids can't flush toilets?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2.  Why can't my husband hang up towels?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3.  Is it impossible to put dirty socks in the clothes hamper?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4.  Why is it a major mission just to keep the lid on the milk?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5.  Is this seriously what my life is all about?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am so intellectually stimulated, it kills me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1777912291471776930?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1777912291471776930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1777912291471776930&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1777912291471776930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1777912291471776930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/questions.html' title='Questions...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-255555464924159808</id><published>2010-05-05T08:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T08:58:56.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tornado Warnings..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;First of all, this is not about the condition of my house...even though there is evidence that a tornado strikes every other day!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Growing up in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas did not prepare me for many things in my life. Do not get me wrong, I had a fabulous childhood, however marrying a cowboy and moving to Wisconsin was not likely on my "Things to do" list in life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Let's take last night. It was about 7:15 and all of the sudden as we are watching American Idol, Storm Tracker comes on and states that they have issued a Tornado Warning for our county. We have a pretty big county and I wasn't worried. However about 20 minutes later I realized that the path of the tornado &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;forcasted&lt;/span&gt; to hit Highway 96 - the highway 1 mile to the south of us! I tried not to panic, called my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;neighboors&lt;/span&gt; and told the kids to head to the basement. (Which of course they would not do....) We were told between 8:06 - 8:15 was the predicted time of the storm to pass through our township. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The kids at this point were crying...I mean crying crying, sobbing. I finally went to the stairs and said, "Guys, what is wrong, we are going to be fine." Tate said "Mom Heavenly Father is preparing the earth for Jesus and he is going to kill all the wicked people!" I had forgotten that early that morning we were reading in the scriptures about when Christ would visit the earth again and the thundering/earthquakes that would come to prepare the earth for his coming. My children seriously believed that today was the day. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I took them to the bathroom downstairs, pulled the cushions off the couch, got blankets, water and my purse and we waited for the storm to pass. I said to them. "What do we do when we are scared?" Tye said, "Pray, I've already said 20 and now I'm not going to have a Dad for the rest of my life." While I was obeying the National Weather Forecast and going to a safe place, my husband was outside video recording the whole thing. I don't understand men and especially my husband, but we survived. (At one point we could see the twister, and it was pretty memorizing....but seriously! I'm upping his life insurance!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I learned some valuable lessons. First, that my children actually listen during scripture study in the morning so I better start upping my teaching tactics. Second, that I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; not ready for any type of national disaster and I better start getting ready physically, mentally and spiritually. My children clung to me in that bathroom, and relied on my faith, it was a feeling I've never felt before. I have so many areas of improvement in my life. Third, after the storm had passed I went upstairs relieved and started doing normal things again. Tye came in and said, "Mom, I know we are OK, but what about everyone else, should we say a prayer and see if we can go help?" It was a grave lesson as to my selfishness. I had not stopped to think of the others that might have been effected, I just started putting the dishes in the dishwasher. I'm thankful for a Son who is so caring. (Now, if I could get him to not tease his brother....it would be a serious miracle!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The storm passed, luckily no one is the area was hurt or extremely effected. It was just a warning, but some very valuable lessons were learned and hopefully will never be forgotten! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-255555464924159808?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/255555464924159808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=255555464924159808&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/255555464924159808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/255555464924159808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/05/tornado-warnings.html' title='Tornado Warnings..'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3130297533450315594</id><published>2010-04-29T18:57:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T19:29:05.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Days go by...</title><content type='html'>I really have a love/hate relationship with this blogging world. I do absolutely love to visit every ones cute sites, but keeping up with our little world is sometimes impossible. I vowed to myself I was going to start doing this on a regular basis. However, I have also vowed in the last few months to walk in a 10K, and I have yet to hit the pavement. So I will quit making 77 excuses and start with the update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter: Was actually one of the most successful Easter's we've ever had. Usually one child finds more eggs than the other, or the Easter Bunny leaves the wrong kind of gum. Trust me, we've had some Easter issues. This year, fabulous. We dyed over 8 Dozen eggs (I know borderline ridiculous, but the kids love it) We usually make eggs for everyone in the family. Although Tye decided to make the different NFL Teams...shocker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJWATfvCI/AAAAAAAABl0/47v9_3VLBX8/s1600/March+2010+152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466254321364483106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJWATfvCI/AAAAAAAABl0/47v9_3VLBX8/s320/March+2010+152.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJVvxM7nI/AAAAAAAABls/tgtLOvZ-B-8/s1600/March+2010+158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466254316925677170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJVvxM7nI/AAAAAAAABls/tgtLOvZ-B-8/s320/March+2010+158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJVHLfx-I/AAAAAAAABlk/hgkoluGNG1A/s1600/March+2010+154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466254306030110690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJVHLfx-I/AAAAAAAABlk/hgkoluGNG1A/s320/March+2010+154.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJUgEIvqI/AAAAAAAABlc/RRCoXYe65D4/s1600/March+2010+155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466254295530258082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJUgEIvqI/AAAAAAAABlc/RRCoXYe65D4/s320/March+2010+155.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sparkle eggs, are mine...who doesn't like a little bling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We actually went to 3 Different Easter Egg Hunts throughout the day. I'm telling you , Wisconsin can have some hoppin hunts! We came home with so many toys and candy, I could have saved the Easter Bunny some money! Luckily we have great friends to join us is these adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Y0X9h1_dI/AAAAAAAABiU/vJxqYm406Gs/s1600/April+2010+156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464612784118824402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Y0X9h1_dI/AAAAAAAABiU/vJxqYm406Gs/s320/April+2010+156.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJW0Hcs-I/AAAAAAAABl8/_k4cQD8Fuwc/s1600/April+2010+163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466254335272596450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJW0Hcs-I/AAAAAAAABl8/_k4cQD8Fuwc/s320/April+2010+163.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Y0WuZ_moI/AAAAAAAABiM/_lPix3AARC4/s1600/April+2010+150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464612762879498882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Y0WuZ_moI/AAAAAAAABiM/_lPix3AARC4/s320/April+2010+150.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lexington Kentucky&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464594816993159250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YkCIxRaFI/AAAAAAAABfs/KXds_T7yF9A/s320/March+2010+062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A highlight of the spring was when we were able to take Tate to Lexington Kentucky. It was just Wes and I with Tate. We try every year to do a little something with each child individually and it is always worth every second. (and penny) Tate LOVES horses, and it obsessed with Horse Racing. At first, he wanted to be a jockey, but we all know that is out of the question. He then decided he wants to be a horse trainer. He literally spends hours and hours training his horses. If you ever drive past our house and see a little boy trotting around in circles, don't worry, he's just training. In fact on Wednesday I asked him to help me pick up the trash from the wind. He looked at me, dead face and said. "Don't you know what this week is like for me?" I just kind of shook my head, and thought, What? In my mind I'm thinking 2 things. 1. You have school, and baseball practice....Whoa! 2. Take a look at my calendar buddy! He then looked me straight in the eyes and said. "It's Derby Week!" Off he ran, getting his horses ready for the Kentucky Derby. (Which happens to be today, and yes we have planned a little Pizza Party for the occasion....the things you do for your children!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We spent 5 days and 4 nights visiting every horse sanctuary you can think of. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Thoroughbred Training Center, The Equestrian Horse Park, different horse farms, retired horse farms, you name it, we saw it! Tate was in heaven the entire time! The horse below is actually the horse they used to film the movie Sea Biscuit, his real name is Popcorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Love This Picture, I would love to be in his little mind, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can just imagine what he is dreaming about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym4vOeFRI/AAAAAAAABgE/lGTXjTN-M8E/s1600/March+2010+129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464597954052363538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym4vOeFRI/AAAAAAAABgE/lGTXjTN-M8E/s320/March+2010+129.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the last day of the trip, he actually got to meet his "Dream Horse" Big Brown! It truly was a very magical day for him. There is nothing better in this world than to watch the little dreams of your children come true. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym4ZVEjJI/AAAAAAAABf8/mDQc4DbDJeQ/s1600/March+2010+097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464597948174470290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym4ZVEjJI/AAAAAAAABf8/mDQc4DbDJeQ/s320/March+2010+097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FYI, Tate literally had me take over 450 pictures of this trip, 107 of them are of Big Brown!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym32_S-tI/AAAAAAAABf0/T6p4rBXTXBc/s1600/March+2010+085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464597938956335826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym32_S-tI/AAAAAAAABf0/T6p4rBXTXBc/s320/March+2010+085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately Wes had to leave early for a business meeting in Indianapolis, but the morning he left we took take to the Keenland Horse Track, ate breakfast with the Jockey's and watched the morning horse workouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YkBlcHJeI/AAAAAAAABfk/_QW95i4iJJE/s1600/March+2010+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464594807509165538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YkBlcHJeI/AAAAAAAABfk/_QW95i4iJJE/s320/March+2010+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9uD3hG6Y6I/AAAAAAAABlU/gLTSoqS392M/s1600/March+2010+145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466107562547635106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9uD3hG6Y6I/AAAAAAAABlU/gLTSoqS392M/s320/March+2010+145.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was fabulous, was my Best Friend, and Sister joined us!&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, she was a good sport about the whole situation, except for the breading farm we got to visit up close &amp;amp; Personal!&lt;br /&gt;I did make it up with fancy hotel &amp;amp; Chocolate cake each night for dessert!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t7w40E9II/AAAAAAAABkU/JRSYUcCKXBE/s1600/April+2010+133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466098652558980226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t7w40E9II/AAAAAAAABkU/JRSYUcCKXBE/s320/April+2010+133.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t7xU9dWsI/AAAAAAAABkc/5VH7UUrkcmE/s1600/April+2010+134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466098660114520770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t7xU9dWsI/AAAAAAAABkc/5VH7UUrkcmE/s320/April+2010+134.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can't visit Kentucky without going on a horse back ride. However, if you go to the Kentucky Horse Park and get "Lips" - the horse pictured above. Ask for your money back!&lt;br /&gt;It was the worst horse,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should have known by the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;stupid fly mask it had on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tate thought his horse looked more like a mule,&lt;br /&gt;but we still had fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wYbAPl-HI/AAAAAAAABmE/vE6H2oIxe2I/s1600/April+2010+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466270899921877106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wYbAPl-HI/AAAAAAAABmE/vE6H2oIxe2I/s400/April+2010+119.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The horse parks, barns and horses&lt;br /&gt;were all very beautiful. I will&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;definitely visit Kentucky again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But what I will remember&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the most is laughing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;with my sister and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;watching the dreams of this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7 year old little boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;come true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor also turned 5. (My Baby is 5, and personally I'm having some issues with it...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We spent much of February/March celebrating her little life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She truly is our little princess so we had a little "Princess Night" for her. We dressed her up and took her out to Dinner and then to Disney's Princesses on Ice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t--UuiWKI/AAAAAAAABk0/S8P7hp6QXGk/s1600/Feb+2010+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466102181925116066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t--UuiWKI/AAAAAAAABk0/S8P7hp6QXGk/s320/Feb+2010+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t-9hjKJXI/AAAAAAAABks/cJj8NOjHOzM/s1600/Feb+2010+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466102168187184498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t-9hjKJXI/AAAAAAAABks/cJj8NOjHOzM/s320/Feb+2010+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GxYSqh_5I/AAAAAAAABeU/tyqa1OJUfjI/s1600-h/DSC01673.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t--wnXoxI/AAAAAAAABk8/mysBd5Wvwa4/s1600/Feb+2010+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466102189411246866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t--wnXoxI/AAAAAAAABk8/mysBd5Wvwa4/s320/Feb+2010+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, who does not love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Disney on Ice!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even the boys enjoyed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was so fun to see her so excited&lt;br /&gt;as each princess came out and&lt;br /&gt;did their dance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For days later all she&lt;br /&gt;would do was "Ice Skate" around&lt;br /&gt;our house, asking when they are&lt;br /&gt;coming back to "Isconsin".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GxXTOREEI/AAAAAAAABeE/hHbASVzxfS8/s1600-h/DSC01684.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445328438322860098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GxXTOREEI/AAAAAAAABeE/hHbASVzxfS8/s320/DSC01684.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had her Birthday Party. Chuck E Cheese was not really the party theme I had in mind. In fact Wes kept asking her, don't you want to do this? Don't you want to do that? But she was adamant about having her Party at good old Chuck E Cheeses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445322922935069714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GsWQzWLBI/AAAAAAAABds/c4jM-uWLpu8/s320/DSC01750.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She invited 18 little friends, and the party began. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was actually the easiest birthday party I have ever thrown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GxW7vBBII/AAAAAAAABd8/QJsJlbCItIM/s1600-h/DSC01745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445328432017769602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GxW7vBBII/AAAAAAAABd8/QJsJlbCItIM/s320/DSC01745.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The most ironic part is that when Chucky came out to sing Happy Birthday, she got so scared.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She did not want one thing to do with Chucky, even if he was giving&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;away free tokens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GsWIIL3_I/AAAAAAAABdk/48kROpNgHXQ/s1600-h/DSC01754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445322920606556146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GsWIIL3_I/AAAAAAAABdk/48kROpNgHXQ/s320/DSC01754.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She soon cheered up...as soon as the Present Began!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GsVnANldI/AAAAAAAABdc/InnCS2R_eAE/s1600-h/DSC01762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445322911714743762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GsVnANldI/AAAAAAAABdc/InnCS2R_eAE/s320/DSC01762.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She loved all the attention. On her birthday all of her family called to wish her Happy Birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445322908883222098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S5GsVcdH_lI/AAAAAAAABdU/zARJXGl8bdU/s320/DSC01824.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Every time the phone rang, she would run in and say. "It's for Me!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a picture of her little cousins in Wyoming Singing to her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part of the month was her end of year dance recital. She was so fun to watch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the car ride there, she kept saying..."I'm so nervous, I'm so nervous....how big is the stage...are people going to be watching me...I'm no nervous..."&lt;br /&gt;She was Fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464590560796538738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YgKZM693I/AAAAAAAABes/py3GVTiMDNc/s320/March+2+2010+062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464590565404153730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YgKqXdl4I/AAAAAAAABe0/tttAzQ1AgO4/s320/March+2+2010+067.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Her big part in the dance, too bad her underwear are hanging out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of Course, Dad brought her flowers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464590584234751474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YgLwhBtfI/AAAAAAAABfE/qxspCLmXf58/s320/March+2+2010+100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because she finished the whole year she got to go to Build a Bear and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;make "Marrying" Bears as she calls them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464590541518078738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YgJRYlAxI/AAAAAAAABek/SJlKM2QHI3o/s320/Feb+2010+115.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for Tye:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He moved from his full leg cast to his half leg cast. He then wore a walking boot for a month. We are currently in the Physical Therapy process, 3 times a week. Six hours a week traveling back and forth to therapy. The sad part is that he is not healing as fast as we had anticipated. He lost a lot of strength and still walks with a limp, his hip is also in bad shape. But he keeps going!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464597971970362482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9Ym5x-dDHI/AAAAAAAABgU/C14KIHjeo8Q/s320/March+2010+148.jpg" border="0" /&gt; He's started to ride again, but can't put his foot in the stir-ups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464594788085687810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9YkAdFMZgI/AAAAAAAABfM/QoPXwLWQsxU/s320/March+2+2010+106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is currently&lt;br /&gt;OBSESSED, OBSESSED &amp;amp; OBSESSED&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9zEdqN47TI/AAAAAAAABmM/ZkdetEndllE/s1600/March+2+2010+113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466460061548735794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9zEdqN47TI/AAAAAAAABmM/ZkdetEndllE/s320/March+2+2010+113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;with Turkey Hunting. He will be old enough in the fall to hunt,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so they have been leaving early in the&lt;br /&gt;mornings and heading to the blind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Twice they have called the birds into&lt;br /&gt;shooting range so they better watch out in the&lt;br /&gt;fall. It looks like he is following his dad's footsteps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t7x_7tRYI/AAAAAAAABkk/yHAXPgJCW-8/s1600/April+2010+184.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466098671649899906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9t7x_7tRYI/AAAAAAAABkk/yHAXPgJCW-8/s320/April+2010+184.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wes is always busy just working and being a Dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did make Davis family&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;history when we acutally got&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;kites to fly for the first time. We usually&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;have to tie them to the back of the 4-wheeler.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, if we can catch a fish sometime&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;during this earthy voyage,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;we'll be in good shape!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9uD3EjNqxI/AAAAAAAABlM/zzXYKqbvqN0/s1600/March+2010+164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466107554881710866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9uD3EjNqxI/AAAAAAAABlM/zzXYKqbvqN0/s320/March+2010+164.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I did celebrate my birthday. Wes &amp;amp; the kids planned a birthday party for me. For the 1st time in our marriage, Wes actually made me a cake. He called my sister for directions, but when the cake batter didn't fill the whole pan he got worried and made another mix. You can imagine, a heart cake, burnt on the sides and jiggly in the middle. Nevertheless it was one of the sweetest gifts I have ever had on my birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever have to load this many pictures on blogger again, I will shoot myself, this post has been disaterous...but hopefully you all enjoyed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9oP-0a3EaI/AAAAAAAABjM/geq3ggG-14w/s1600/March+2+2010+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465698669665128866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9oP-0a3EaI/AAAAAAAABjM/geq3ggG-14w/s320/March+2+2010+040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. We also got rid&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;of our little shetlin Pony...it was scared of adults!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was a crazy horse anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3130297533450315594?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3130297533450315594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3130297533450315594&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3130297533450315594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3130297533450315594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/03/days-go-by.html' title='Days go by...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S9wJWATfvCI/AAAAAAAABl0/47v9_3VLBX8/s72-c/March+2010+152.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3191329881243615506</id><published>2010-03-16T19:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T07:24:21.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of my life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The story of my life with my son Tate goes something like this....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scene 1: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: You have to do some chores before you can play&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: Can sharpening pencils be my chore?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Nice try, but sharpening pencils is not a chore. Go clean the bathroom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: I'm not cleaning the toilet, people poop in there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Really, who do you think should clean it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: Tye&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scene 2&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: It's time for Dinner&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: I had 4 Ding Dongs, I'm not hungry&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: You ate 4 Ding Dongs?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: The white stuff is healthy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scene 3&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Go take a bath.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: I don't want to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Your stinky and sweaty go get in the tub.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: I'll just wipe my sweat on my sheets.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyone interested in a visit?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scene 4&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Wash your hands before you eat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: Surprisingly washes his hands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: Opens the drawer, sees that there are not any clean towels, comes behind me and wipes his hands on my pants, and walks away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Speechless....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scene 5 (Payback time)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: 5:45 am child is spanking mom on the bum thinking he is so funny.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Trying to pretend to still be asleep&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: You got some junk in the trunk, giggles, and continues to spank, although this time to a little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rhythm&lt;/span&gt; of some sort.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Decides it's payback time and let's one rip - (I normally do not admit these things, but it was so funny, right on his hand)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: Jumps back, can not believe what really happened, and left the room shaking his head in disbelief. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Seriously laughs out loud for 10 minutes, almost crying, it was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; funny. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Child: Leaves mom alone for another 20 minutes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Smiles &amp;amp; still continues to laugh &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I start thinking about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Scene 6&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Picking up the kids from school.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Hi guys, how was school?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tye: Fine, what's for Dinner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tate: I had to flip my card today. (It's what happens when your disrespectful, or bad at school, you go off the green card to yellow...then possible red)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Why did you have to flip your card?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tate: I told my class how you farted on my hand and I couldn't stop making farting sounds.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: Hung my head, totally &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;humiliated&lt;/span&gt;, but still can not stop laughing....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Such are the stories of my life......Can't wait for Teacher Parent Conference next week!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3191329881243615506?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3191329881243615506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3191329881243615506&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3191329881243615506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3191329881243615506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/03/story-of-my-life.html' title='Story of my life...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3904363406852928465</id><published>2010-03-05T19:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T19:59:37.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://smilebox.com/play/4d54557a4f446b344d44493d0d0a&amp;blogview=true&amp;campaign=blog_playback_link" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img width="386" height="303" alt="Click to play this Smilebox scrapbook: Snow Fun" src="http://smilebox.com/snap/4d54557a4f446b344d44493d0d0a.jpg" style="border: medium none ;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=google&amp;campaign=blog_snapshot" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img width="386" height="46" alt="Create your own scrapbook - Powered by Smilebox" src="http://www.smilebox.com/globalImages/blogInstructions/blogLogoSmileboxSmall.gif" style="border: medium none ;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;A &lt;a href="http://www.smilebox.com/scrapbooks/scrapbooking-card/" target="_blank"&gt;scrapbooking design&lt;/a&gt; by Smilebox&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a Great Time Skiing &amp; Tubing with the Shulz family...&lt;br /&gt;Winter can be Snow Fun!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3904363406852928465?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3904363406852928465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3904363406852928465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3904363406852928465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3904363406852928465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/03/snow-fun.html' title='Snow Fun!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-9056236686263607014</id><published>2010-02-25T06:38:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T07:19:09.835-06:00</updated><title type='text'>While the boys are away</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Last weekend Wes took the boys to Winter Scout Camp. My original plans went something like this. "While the boys were away, the girls were going to play!" However, after they came &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;home with the camera I think we might have got the raw end of the deal....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Waving Goodbye to chaos and hello to peace, is what I thought.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4kMfYdzkWI/AAAAAAAABdE/pD1cIBMnuro/s1600-h/DSC01702.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442895357936898402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4kMfYdzkWI/AAAAAAAABdE/pD1cIBMnuro/s320/DSC01702.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Since Tye's wheelchair and crutches aren't 4 wheel drive, we took up a sled and Wes &amp;amp; Tate took turns pulling him around to all of the activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4kMezmnWdI/AAAAAAAABc8/HHcBFxnD66g/s1600-h/DSC01710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442895348041734610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4kMezmnWdI/AAAAAAAABc8/HHcBFxnD66g/s320/DSC01710.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They ice fished, went on a scavenger hunt, did some sort of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;widdling&lt;/span&gt; badge and orienteering badge, but the one part my boys do not love to participate in, is the skits and singing....it is a very dreadful night, for them &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(and for Wes - scout skits - painful!)&lt;br /&gt;Notice the smiling faces below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxQu_truI/AAAAAAAABck/rlRsxjlMX5A/s1600-h/DSC01726.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442161732030934754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxQu_truI/AAAAAAAABck/rlRsxjlMX5A/s320/DSC01726.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; During all of the activities Wes did manage to snap a few great pictures,&lt;br /&gt;below are my favorites from the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxQfc_RxI/AAAAAAAABcc/idN70VoiX24/s1600-h/DSC01718.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442161727858755346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxQfc_RxI/AAAAAAAABcc/idN70VoiX24/s320/DSC01718.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxQCbWQfI/AAAAAAAABcU/mOwJHlEZA1w/s1600-h/DSC01719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442161720067244530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxQCbWQfI/AAAAAAAABcU/mOwJHlEZA1w/s320/DSC01719.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You would think having a full leg cast would hold this boy back, but he managed a few rides down the sledding hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxPlStbfI/AAAAAAAABcM/JYUOnXEjmUs/s1600-h/DSC01720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442161712246386162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxPlStbfI/AAAAAAAABcM/JYUOnXEjmUs/s320/DSC01720.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I loved this pictures of Wes &amp;amp; the boys...thank you to who ever took it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Sissy &amp;amp; I, not to much to mention. We cleaned the house, danced, did the laundry, listened to Princess songs, danced, watched Barbie nutcracker more times than I want to remember, we mopped the floors and danced, made cupcakes (surprise surprise) played school and danced, read books, went to the grocery store, paid the bills, danced, organized the coat closet, and to think I was actually looking forward to it all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Did I mention that we danced?) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did get to go see a play, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, and went out to eat, she choose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt; - literally, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt; - it was terrible, but I smiled as she ate her mac and cheese, at least I got a break from dancing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of the time we spent getting ready for New Beginnings. We had a full dinner and a great program, with all the help from my dear friends, the night turned out fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxPJAZYwI/AAAAAAAABcE/VVQZvzZjR5g/s1600-h/DSC01734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442161704653382402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4ZxPJAZYwI/AAAAAAAABcE/VVQZvzZjR5g/s320/DSC01734.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; See those fancy Puff flowers and balls - thanks to the queen of decor, my sweet Ashley, the night could not have gone better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Note to self: next time Wes takes the boys away for the weekend, hire a housekeeper, sprain my ankle, do not attempt New Beginnings, remember to tell Taylor the DVD\CD player is broke and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt; is closed, at least take one picture (although no one wants to see a picture of me dancing around in my nightgown with a mop in my hand.) Pray for sunshine (so I have a desire to leave the house) have more candy in the house (to keep my energy level to that of a 4 year old,) and start watching "so you think you can dance" to brush up on my dance moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-9056236686263607014?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/9056236686263607014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=9056236686263607014&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/9056236686263607014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/9056236686263607014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/02/while-boys-are-away.html' title='While the boys are away'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S4kMfYdzkWI/AAAAAAAABdE/pD1cIBMnuro/s72-c/DSC01702.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1967468711424526469</id><published>2010-02-17T06:13:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T07:49:17.947-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovely Valentines</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have never been one of those girls who have thought that a way to a women's heart is through food. But just like many other things, I was wrong. This past weekend seriously bumped me up to the next pants size. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On Friday Wes &amp;amp; I sneaked away for massages and breakfast at this great restaurant in Appleton called the Machine Shed, I am a Breakfast FAN, and we never get the chance. I ordered the Farmers Special, which basically included everything you can think of. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, it wasn't anything compared to the Gunther House in San Antonio, but much better than your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IHop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;/Denny's ordeals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On Saturday it was our turn to host a Dinner Group, we had a fabulous menu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tortilla Soup, Cheese Dip, Black Bean Salsa, a salad with some cilantro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;lime dressing that I could seriously drink, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Carne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Asado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Tacos - with beans and rice (that I burned). To top everything off my friend (who is a master chef) made this dessert, that was a little slice of heaven - I don't even know what it is called. I'm not even a rich chocolate fan, but I might be converted. She left me a slice of pie and seriously at 5:40 am on Sunday (Valentines) I couldn't resist! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What a Breakfast! It looked so much prettier the night before - but you get the idea!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk5SRlGKI/AAAAAAAABb8/MBY7cqb-uV8/s1600-h/DSC01689.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439192647789254818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk5SRlGKI/AAAAAAAABb8/MBY7cqb-uV8/s320/DSC01689.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As soon as the kids woke up we made our annual Sugar cookies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Thank you Chris, I still use your recipe - it's the best!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk4yfbEJI/AAAAAAAABb0/OXBnvzWf-pI/s1600-h/DSC01692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439192639257383058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk4yfbEJI/AAAAAAAABb0/OXBnvzWf-pI/s320/DSC01692.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After Church our Friends joined us for a Candle Light Dinner. We ate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ribeye's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;parmesan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; potatoes, corn, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pinacolada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; smoothies, bread and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my friend brought these brownies - they were delicious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk4ZPQ1bI/AAAAAAAABbs/w1gcvSrMufc/s1600-h/DSC01695.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439192632478717362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk4ZPQ1bI/AAAAAAAABbs/w1gcvSrMufc/s320/DSC01695.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I also decided it was time for a little Chocolate Covered Strawberries &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- with White Chocolate, my favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgOQH786I/AAAAAAAABbc/W8sm3IqgCIs/s1600-h/DSC01699.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439187510431052706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgOQH786I/AAAAAAAABbc/W8sm3IqgCIs/s320/DSC01699.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And to top everything off, my other friend gave me this loaf of Bread, that was mostly consumed - by my husband. He even asked me if I would call her and ask her to make some more! It was so moist, unbelievable, I get hungry just thinking about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgOOk_nNI/AAAAAAAABbU/XsEJqscKznc/s1600-h/DSC01700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439187510016056530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgOOk_nNI/AAAAAAAABbU/XsEJqscKznc/s320/DSC01700.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The last piece - trust me, there will be a battle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get even more spoiled, this time not with food - but Diamonds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He Still Loves Me!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgNVCIynI/AAAAAAAABbM/3mJpUGTCiP0/s1600-h/DSC01667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439187494569036402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgNVCIynI/AAAAAAAABbM/3mJpUGTCiP0/s320/DSC01667.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgMyUK8bI/AAAAAAAABbE/m98kQ9lE-e4/s1600-h/DSC01666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439187485249434034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vgMyUK8bI/AAAAAAAABbE/m98kQ9lE-e4/s320/DSC01666.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Wes always felt bad that he didn't pick out my first Wedding ring, so a few months ago we started looking at rings. I had found a few that I like when he pulled this ring out of the counter. He said, if you going to get a ring, then you better get a ring, and handed me this one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Let's just mention it's one of the few times I choose not to argue with him - instead I said, "Hope you brought your checkbook Cowboy!") &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Love, Love, Love it, (I should have let him pick out the first one!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a very lucky girl, and after this weekend, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should say I'm a very lucky chunky girl!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1967468711424526469?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1967468711424526469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1967468711424526469&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1967468711424526469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1967468711424526469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/02/lovely-valentines.html' title='Lovely Valentines'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S3vk5SRlGKI/AAAAAAAABb8/MBY7cqb-uV8/s72-c/DSC01689.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-452745356691022330</id><published>2010-02-06T17:05:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T07:18:59.186-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Ya'll</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well Wes &amp;amp; I were lucky enough to spend last week in San Antonio Texas. We had a great time, there's something about Texas, but I'm not sure how to explain it.  The service we had at the restaurants, our hotel and just while we were shopping was outstanding, impeccable.  We were treated like royalty, it must have been the Texas hospitality, but it was lovely.  I have never been called Ma'am so many times in my life and every time we entered a restaurant, shop, exhibit the first questions was "How &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ya'll&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doin&lt;/span&gt;?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I loved the architecture, and all of the old buildings and landmarks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is a lot of history in San Antonio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S23-Fd5BG6I/AAAAAAAABa0/GwsyNCeENsM/s1600-h/DSC01660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435279695182633890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S23-Fd5BG6I/AAAAAAAABa0/GwsyNCeENsM/s320/DSC01660.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239nzG3gPI/AAAAAAAABas/BP7xF6YLZt8/s1600-h/DSC01612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435279185481793778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239nzG3gPI/AAAAAAAABas/BP7xF6YLZt8/s320/DSC01612.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Texas was originally established by Spain, and this church reminded me my mission and the little town Plazas with their churches.  (By the way Mission Comps, they even had the nuns wondering around, pigeons, and old men in the plaza playing chess, I totally felt like I was back in the islands, just needed my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Libro&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; Mormon!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Antonio is famous for it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Riverwalk&lt;/span&gt;.  It is very unique, all through downtown there is a river.  You take Taxi's on the river to get to the different venue's.  You can also walk for hours exploring the different shops, but the best part is the FOOD.  It is divine, really divine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239niDNmoI/AAAAAAAABak/nXQERFiLSB8/s1600-h/DSC01617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435279180903062146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239niDNmoI/AAAAAAAABak/nXQERFiLSB8/s320/DSC01617.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You can also take tour cruises, which Wes &amp;amp; I did, and enjoyed. The next picture is what it looks like going down the river, the following picture is one I asked someone to take.  (Wes absolutely hates when I ask people to do that, hence the fake smile.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239nKaPivI/AAAAAAAABac/wU6dgCJ7rXI/s1600-h/DSC01658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435279174557207282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239nKaPivI/AAAAAAAABac/wU6dgCJ7rXI/s320/DSC01658.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239m75XypI/AAAAAAAABaU/Ozli22ngU7A/s1600-h/DSC01656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435279170661239442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239m75XypI/AAAAAAAABaU/Ozli22ngU7A/s320/DSC01656.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have been married to Wes for Almost 12 years, and Boot shopping with him,  has almost consumed 11.3 years.  He is so funny about his boots!  However, he splurged and bought a pair of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lucchese's&lt;/span&gt;".  They are custom, handmade, pricey, Cowboy boots, and they are Fancy!!! He walked around in the store for hours (OK - Hour) trying on the different styles.  Texans know their boots because everywhere Wes wore them, all everyone said was...."Nice Boots!"   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239mYGaQPI/AAAAAAAABaM/jncDJ-bsVFU/s1600-h/DSC01654.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435279161052250354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S239mYGaQPI/AAAAAAAABaM/jncDJ-bsVFU/s320/DSC01654.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We had to visit the Alamo, we actually went to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;IMax&lt;/span&gt; movie next door to learn in depth about the history.  It is a very sad story that I believe helped shape the future of our nation. It's always amazing to me the price people paid for the freedom of our country.  It's a blessing so unnoticed at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236hyxKOeI/AAAAAAAABaE/IsleJ8xTM-Y/s1600-h/DSC01626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435275783776647650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236hyxKOeI/AAAAAAAABaE/IsleJ8xTM-Y/s320/DSC01626.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236hZ_-83I/AAAAAAAABZ8/YTDicNR_bMc/s1600-h/DSC01627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435275777127936882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236hZ_-83I/AAAAAAAABZ8/YTDicNR_bMc/s320/DSC01627.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One of my favorite places to visit was the San Antonio Missions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236gpdYyFI/AAAAAAAABZ0/bLUZbOJPwjc/s1600-h/DSC01642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435275764097927250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236gpdYyFI/AAAAAAAABZ0/bLUZbOJPwjc/s320/DSC01642.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You have to know the history of the "Missions" to appreciate them.  This mission was actually built in the early 1700's, fifty families were brought over from "The Canary Islands" (now you will understand why I so interested, that's where I served my mission, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the people from the islands.)  I also thought it was interesting they brought the islanders to start these missions to develop peace with the Indians. They were actually the first residents of Texas, and fought to preserve the Alamo.   I love the people in the islands, and was so intrigued of their history in our country, and the role they played in our fight for freedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236gd_HzaI/AAAAAAAABZs/9-C-y81Z0UU/s1600-h/DSC01645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435275761018195362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236gd_HzaI/AAAAAAAABZs/9-C-y81Z0UU/s320/DSC01645.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This church is the oldest Church in the United States, built by the islanders in the early 1700's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236f59B2cI/AAAAAAAABZk/SZgFuoj7a88/s1600-h/DSC01647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435275751345740226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S236f59B2cI/AAAAAAAABZk/SZgFuoj7a88/s320/DSC01647.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In down town there is "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Villatas&lt;/span&gt;" a group of shops dedicated to the early settlers, but really it is just stuff brought up from Mexico.  (I did get some great deals on souvenirs for my kids.) &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234GoMgi6I/AAAAAAAABZc/jEQtny6Kgd8/s1600-h/DSC01607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435273118058843042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234GoMgi6I/AAAAAAAABZc/jEQtny6Kgd8/s320/DSC01607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now let's talk about the Food.  I don't even what to comprehend how much I consumed on this trip but we ate at some of the fanciest restaurants, thanks to the clients of the Cattle Company. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Bohanans&lt;/span&gt;, Ruth Chris, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Flemmings&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Lowry's&lt;/span&gt; Chart House (It was in one of those tall buildings, like the stratosphere, and it circled around with the view of San Antonio.) &lt;br /&gt;But my favorite....my serious favorite....the one I am still dreaming about, was this tiny little old Victorian restaurant that was an original flour mill.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We loved it so much, we kept going back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234GJwfcII/AAAAAAAABZU/RZ65fvmc4yA/s1600-h/DSC01637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435273109888266370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234GJwfcII/AAAAAAAABZU/RZ65fvmc4yA/s320/DSC01637.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234Fi3zJWI/AAAAAAAABZM/vrVapRv-vHA/s1600-h/DSC01634.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435273099449935202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234Fi3zJWI/AAAAAAAABZM/vrVapRv-vHA/s320/DSC01634.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some girls love chocolate, some flowers, but for me it's Bread.  Muffins, donuts, croissants, biscuits, Cinnamon rolls....I am a sucker!!!!  This place had the most, and I mean most, fabulous breads, rolls, biscuits, that I do not think I can possible find better.  The breakfast was honestly one of the most favorite meals I have ever eaten...IN MY LIFE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  It makes me homesick just thinking about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234FfHIN6I/AAAAAAAABZE/KImuBWhbtGY/s1600-h/DSC01639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435273098440488866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234FfHIN6I/AAAAAAAABZE/KImuBWhbtGY/s320/DSC01639.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Every morning I had more and more items to take home with me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That place is literally what I call "Paradise".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234E0ywSpI/AAAAAAAABY8/qu4-l8cqKxg/s1600-h/DSC01600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435273087080745618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S234E0ywSpI/AAAAAAAABY8/qu4-l8cqKxg/s320/DSC01600.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We are so lucky for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Wes's&lt;/span&gt; job that allows us to do all these fun things, I never knew a cattle conference could be so fun.  I really liked Texas, and the Gunther House Bakery, but mostly it was just fun to be together.  We need it, I think every marriage needs it, for us it's just the time together to laugh, talk, relax (Yes, Wes &amp;amp; I have a tradition, we get massages every time we take a trip - yes, even my stubborn cowboy husband bears it all for a massage.)  It rejuvenates us, were more patient with each other, and remember how easy it is to be in love.  The sad part is, I'm all ready for the next one!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-452745356691022330?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/452745356691022330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=452745356691022330&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/452745356691022330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/452745356691022330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/02/hey-yall.html' title='Hey Ya&apos;ll'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S23-Fd5BG6I/AAAAAAAABa0/GwsyNCeENsM/s72-c/DSC01660.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1985424542543848406</id><published>2010-01-27T04:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T04:14:03.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Student of the Week!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well this past week at school, Tate was chosen to be Student of the Week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was a VERY big Deal for this 7 year old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2wGtefyI/AAAAAAAABY0/Y3yWrnsidBk/s1600-h/Oct+3+2009+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430275450764951330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2wGtefyI/AAAAAAAABY0/Y3yWrnsidBk/s320/Oct+3+2009+059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He was so exited, we spent hours making a poster all about him. Through out the week we got to share many of his favorite snacks (Brownies, donuts &amp;amp; Fun Dips - his teacher was hating me!) He also got to take some of his horse collections - key word, some, we could fill my car with his different horse collections!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2v-0GZII/AAAAAAAABYs/RAKdhpO4hqE/s1600-h/DSC01565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430275448645248130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2v-0GZII/AAAAAAAABYs/RAKdhpO4hqE/s320/DSC01565.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As Student of the Week you are granted one special priledge. So at the end of the week, Wes &amp;amp; I surprised him and brought his horse to school for show and tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2vYN1G3I/AAAAAAAABYk/_yXvg0UIRqM/s1600-h/DSC01581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430275438284184434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2vYN1G3I/AAAAAAAABYk/_yXvg0UIRqM/s320/DSC01581.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He got to show his class how to saddle a horse, put on a bridle and how to brush her and take care of her feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2uzVu4mI/AAAAAAAABYc/pLUZ1ZwtvPI/s1600-h/DSC01575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430275428385219170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2uzVu4mI/AAAAAAAABYc/pLUZ1ZwtvPI/s320/DSC01575.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (That is Tye in the wheelchair - he has to be in a wheelchair at school.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His Favorite Part was when he got to ride her around the school and teach the kids "how to drive a horse."  He was so proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2ugzsAGI/AAAAAAAABYU/-iUFAFHvP9k/s1600-h/DSC01578.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430275423410585698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2ugzsAGI/AAAAAAAABYU/-iUFAFHvP9k/s320/DSC01578.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was a Fun week for him, I love seeing my children so happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1985424542543848406?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1985424542543848406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1985424542543848406&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1985424542543848406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1985424542543848406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/student-of-week.html' title='Student of the Week!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1w2wGtefyI/AAAAAAAABY0/Y3yWrnsidBk/s72-c/Oct+3+2009+059.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2778662141818453878</id><published>2010-01-24T04:43:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T05:49:59.240-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unexpected</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Remember the last clip from the post below....The one clip to the quick care telling us Tye's leg was just a bad bruise. So much for quick care...I knew it was more! A mother's intuition is always right!!!!! After he spent 5 days crawling around I made an appt. with a specialist, and thank heaven I did. Tye broke his leg/ankle. His break is right on the growth plate between his leg and ankle. This past week we've had more x-rays, an MRI and visits with two specialists. Every few weeks we go in for more x-rays to see if growth will resume, if not there is a big decision to make. In order to not have two legs different sizes we can take the growth plate out of the other leg, or do some type of bones cell diffusion to promote growth. In either case for the next 3 months he will be in a cast, and then months of therapy. Please pray for us, I can't imagine this boy living with the limitations this could cause him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1wogHgK8mI/AAAAAAAABYM/NRZjBUZijn4/s1600-h/DSC01583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430259782936883810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1wogHgK8mI/AAAAAAAABYM/NRZjBUZijn4/s320/DSC01583.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I tired to have him smile, it didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1wofFpUZGI/AAAAAAAABX8/pAtw4B8arSc/s1600-h/DSC01585.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430259765258511458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1wofFpUZGI/AAAAAAAABX8/pAtw4B8arSc/s320/DSC01585.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life takes unexpected turns. He had to give up his spot on his traveling Basketball team, he's no longer QB on his Spring Football league. The skiing trip we had planned in two weeks has been cancelled, and the doctors gave little hope for Spring Baseball. My calendar has been completely erased and I have a very broken hearted son! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1wmWB4lhWI/AAAAAAAABXE/k_Eaq0EKXjc/s1600-h/DSC01567.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2778662141818453878?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2778662141818453878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2778662141818453878&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2778662141818453878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2778662141818453878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/unexpected.html' title='The Unexpected'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1wogHgK8mI/AAAAAAAABYM/NRZjBUZijn4/s72-c/DSC01583.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1959727532009712447</id><published>2010-01-15T16:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T19:46:30.244-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Please tell me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Please tell me that I am not the only one who finds Hannah Montana stickers on the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;inconvenient&lt;/span&gt; places....(like my fireplace)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFzXquU2I/AAAAAAAABW8/DfBbvrXHA9k/s1600-h/DSC01556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427125406042837858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFzXquU2I/AAAAAAAABW8/DfBbvrXHA9k/s320/DSC01556.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Please tell me that I am not the only one who has a son that hangs up his &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pictures with chewed gum.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFy2Ai8dI/AAAAAAAABW0/iMhgQxHybyk/s1600-h/DSC01557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427125397007561170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFy2Ai8dI/AAAAAAAABW0/iMhgQxHybyk/s320/DSC01557.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Please tell me that I am not the only one who uses her dining room table as a make shift laundry room because I hate putting clothes away....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFys9GvFI/AAAAAAAABWs/PvUWuKyFozc/s1600-h/DSC01560.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427125394577210450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFys9GvFI/AAAAAAAABWs/PvUWuKyFozc/s320/DSC01560.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Please tell me I'm no the only one who has a daughter that literally finds any and every occasion to make cupcakes, just so she can lick the bowl.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFyEOs2MI/AAAAAAAABWk/aKeG6ltyhXA/s1600-h/DSC01550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427125383645157570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFyEOs2MI/AAAAAAAABWk/aKeG6ltyhXA/s320/DSC01550.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Please tell me I'm not the only one who has a son that hides his favorite &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shirt from me so that I can't wash it.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFxoYvZeI/AAAAAAAABWc/HYWjJo0Mv-I/s1600-h/DSC01558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427125376171075042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFxoYvZeI/AAAAAAAABWc/HYWjJo0Mv-I/s320/DSC01558.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and Please, Please tell me that I'm not the only one who keeps Quick Care is business with hurt toes and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sprained&lt;/span&gt; ankles....and endless medical bills all from ONE son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6e223bf66d7a681b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6e223bf66d7a681b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4D7F8965AB7CF04A98BD079CE5348C0BC24C2F77.1BDA56194C6B354F2ED718D83B8D69E56E270AB5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6e223bf66d7a681b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DF36sXtMisdySi6F5KqoqkOvJXpY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6e223bf66d7a681b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4D7F8965AB7CF04A98BD079CE5348C0BC24C2F77.1BDA56194C6B354F2ED718D83B8D69E56E270AB5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6e223bf66d7a681b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DF36sXtMisdySi6F5KqoqkOvJXpY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, tell me I'm not alone in all of this!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1959727532009712447?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1959727532009712447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1959727532009712447&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1959727532009712447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1959727532009712447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/please-tell-me.html' title='Please tell me...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S1EFzXquU2I/AAAAAAAABW8/DfBbvrXHA9k/s72-c/DSC01556.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-888300016168363099</id><published>2010-01-12T05:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T05:59:24.218-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Return of the Fat Suit</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;OK, there are some perks to living in Wisconsin in the Winter Time. They are few and far between, don't let me fool you. Last year we spent all Winter indoors, I wasn't brave enough to face the cold, but this year I was bound and determined to not let it get the best of my adventurous nature. I have different winter activities planned throughout these next couple of months, and hopefully we'll get to do all of them. This last Saturday we hit a tubing park - with the Jenkins Family and it was great. The weather was actually beautiful, (Beautiful is 17 degrees, but no wind and the sun was actually shining - such a rare thing in this neck of the woods!) But I love tubing, and yes I screamed my first couple of runs down!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The only problem is "The Fat Suit" it is awful - ugly - and worst of all I seriously look and feel as if I'm pushing 380lbs....I honestly can't even get into it without Wes's help. I'm pathetic, hopeless, but so determined to stay warm and enjoy these outings. Wes told me that I'm one of those kids whose mom's put to much clothes on and can't move, the problem, he's right. I can barely move in the fat suit, but I'm warm. So for the next couple months as I continue to post pictures of me in this ridiculous fat suit just remember the following. 1. You can borrow it at any time, because I think I have room for two people inside. 2. I'm grateful it's not orange, that was my other color choice. 3. In the spring when you start seeing me without my fat suit you can all tell me that I look great and that I must have lost at least 82 lbs. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;One Quick Video of Tye Getting Knocked out and a Slideshow of Fun Below!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a40d8e61c00e3133" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da40d8e61c00e3133%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5072A8F772D07727A50069747B23A49EC3E426FB.596624F1986E8F449911F2534AA3839B362A0AD5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da40d8e61c00e3133%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D2635_0OJB4IrS6WukPUdw2oLNrk&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da40d8e61c00e3133%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5072A8F772D07727A50069747B23A49EC3E426FB.596624F1986E8F449911F2534AA3839B362A0AD5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da40d8e61c00e3133%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D2635_0OJB4IrS6WukPUdw2oLNrk&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-888300016168363099?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/888300016168363099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=888300016168363099&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/888300016168363099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/888300016168363099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/return-of-fat-suit.html' title='Return of the Fat Suit'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-5654772082922450347</id><published>2010-01-12T05:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T05:53:11.036-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI2MzI5NzE1MzY1OCZwdD*xMjYzMjk3MTg4NjI2JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*5YjE*ZjgyNTZhOWY*YmNiOTU5OGQ*OTQxNTIwMDdlYSZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/39df580d.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=39df580d.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-5654772082922450347?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5654772082922450347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=5654772082922450347&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5654772082922450347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5654772082922450347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4054032111658189840</id><published>2010-01-09T07:34:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T09:45:24.583-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessive</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have son, who is borderline obsessive about Football.  I'm happy that he has something in life that he loves.  I wish it was reading or cleaning his room, but I'm happy he watches the NFL Network instead of Sponge Bob and I'm glad that he's always getting lots of exercise instead of playing video games.  However I recently went down stairs opened up the closet underneath the stairs and this is what I found. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"A Football Fort"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHW0CMRaI/AAAAAAAABWU/Eq3hmuBV54I/s1600-h/DSC01502.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424734577162470818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHW0CMRaI/AAAAAAAABWU/Eq3hmuBV54I/s320/DSC01502.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All of the walls are covered in Football cards, organized by position, offense, defense etc, he has a special little Colts section with his gloves, hats and pads nailed to the wall.  At first, I was like what is going on here, and then I stopped myself and realized how much time effort and thought he put into this.  Last night he actually slept inside with one of his buddies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHWn1zFdI/AAAAAAAABWM/dtweL5XCVQk/s1600-h/DSC01503.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424734573889263058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHWn1zFdI/AAAAAAAABWM/dtweL5XCVQk/s320/DSC01503.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; His room is also decorated with NFL memorabilia, he wanted some FatHeads for Christmas.  (These giant wall hangings), once he found out how much each cost he went to the NLF website and made his own wall hangings, they are posted all over his room. He is no artist, literally he is no artist, but they are cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Everyday when I pick him up from school I'll ask the normal question - how was school.  Not once, and I mean once have I ever heard about what he actually might have learned at school.  What I do get is a 15 minute recap of every play at recess, who was on his team and what plays he called and why he called them. Tye has an incredible memory for things, well things that are important to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHWMwvrnI/AAAAAAAABWE/qwBAHbW_ro4/s1600-h/DSC01504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424734566620311154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHWMwvrnI/AAAAAAAABWE/qwBAHbW_ro4/s320/DSC01504.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  He loves it and as a parent all I can do is support him.   I have a huge feeling I am going to spend many hours hauling him to practice and many more hours watching him play, but such are the joys on my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For how tough, indepent and strong willed this 9 years is, it's also amazing that on his christmas list was the Taylor Swift CD, which Santa so kindly brought. Now as he's downstairs hanging out in his "Football Fort" Keith Urban got benched and Taylor Swift is a roarin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4054032111658189840?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4054032111658189840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4054032111658189840&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4054032111658189840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4054032111658189840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/obsessive.html' title='Obsessive'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0iHW0CMRaI/AAAAAAAABWU/Eq3hmuBV54I/s72-c/DSC01502.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4325980060001531150</id><published>2010-01-03T09:32:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T06:18:34.579-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A week to Remember....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The week after Christmas was very eventful!  We played the entire week, 7 Days - 4 different Hotels and by the end of the week a very tired Family! Here is a Re-cap!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Tundra Lodge is a family favorite, and since Aunt Karry was in town, we couldn't resist! Taylor was the luckiest because Aunt Karry was actually brave enough to go into Splash Mountain, Mom usually just takes pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4Ht42sAI/AAAAAAAABV0/6rfxzPBJBUA/s1600-h/PC270830%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423591925233397762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4Ht42sAI/AAAAAAAABV0/6rfxzPBJBUA/s320/PC270830%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tate showed his stuff on the obstacle course, and even stopped and posed for pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4HQ2KiAI/AAAAAAAABVs/lJpGHEfNn7U/s1600-h/PC270846%5B2%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423591917437487106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4HQ2KiAI/AAAAAAAABVs/lJpGHEfNn7U/s320/PC270846%5B2%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; That's me, surrounded by my three kids at my domain "The lazy River".  It's my favorite ride!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4G22IUyI/AAAAAAAABVk/QRi_1Ez4Evk/s1600-h/PC270839%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423591910458020642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4G22IUyI/AAAAAAAABVk/QRi_1Ez4Evk/s320/PC270839%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Our next outing was to Milwaukee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We are a NFL Family, but every once in a while we like to change things up a bit. This time we choose to go the the Milwaukee Bucks game. It's the first time we've been to a NBA Game, and it was pretty fun. We had great seats which always makes it more enjoyable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH-3vDV2I/AAAAAAAABVc/b7YdFbC9iXg/s1600-h/DSC01297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422553834281195362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH-3vDV2I/AAAAAAAABVc/b7YdFbC9iXg/s320/DSC01297.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The interesting part is that my kids were fascinated with this balloon thing that kept flying around dropping coupons and stuffed animals - it almost drove me borderline crazy, as usual the row ahead of us won the stuff....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH-jVPYKI/AAAAAAAABVU/zwb2Q3WTBEI/s1600-h/DSC01294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422553828804223138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH-jVPYKI/AAAAAAAABVU/zwb2Q3WTBEI/s320/DSC01294.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Also as usual, Taylor fell asleep.....she never lasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH-PyTL3I/AAAAAAAABVM/loYRnpPEQl8/s1600-h/DSC01301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422553823557398386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH-PyTL3I/AAAAAAAABVM/loYRnpPEQl8/s320/DSC01301.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My Mom came with us and she "rocked" the house. They had a live band, which were awesome! Literally they were great and my mom spent all night tapping her feet and moving her shoulders....Way to go Barb!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH93m4WuI/AAAAAAAABVE/g3X5r0kLVPE/s1600-h/DSC01302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422553817067051746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DH93m4WuI/AAAAAAAABVE/g3X5r0kLVPE/s320/DSC01302.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Our next fun adventure was at Hotel Sierra in downtown Green Bay. They had this New Years Eve Family party that was so much fun. We went with two other fun families and it was great. We usually don't celebrate New Years (I'm lucky if I'm awake past 10) But they had all kinds of fun activities to keep us busy. We split the kids up between the rooms and it was just as fun for the adults as it was for the kids!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFpLPYDKI/AAAAAAAABU8/Z7BvWefrHJg/s1600-h/DSC01373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422551262536666274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFpLPYDKI/AAAAAAAABU8/Z7BvWefrHJg/s320/DSC01373.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Of course the kids had to swim - here is Tate with his buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFoonJzQI/AAAAAAAABU0/qaz1bLnrJ4Y/s1600-h/DSC01418.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422551253241154818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFoonJzQI/AAAAAAAABU0/qaz1bLnrJ4Y/s320/DSC01418.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The hotel is connected to the convention center so in every room of the convention center they had different activities for the kids. Bounce houses, cookie decorating, a movie theater, a game room with wii and xbox competitions....Tye's favorite, although he was a good sport about taking Taylor in the "Jumpy Thinks" as she called them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFoShHGGI/AAAAAAAABUs/5a-f7numsDo/s1600-h/DSC01382.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422551247310231650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFoShHGGI/AAAAAAAABUs/5a-f7numsDo/s320/DSC01382.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They also had a build a bear workshop....Taylor's personal favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFnxsBJ2I/AAAAAAAABUk/xVwOAsAIiOI/s1600-h/DSC01389.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422551238497609570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DFnxsBJ2I/AAAAAAAABUk/xVwOAsAIiOI/s320/DSC01389.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At the end of the night they had a balloon drop with New Years hats, necklaces, a bunch of junk, and they finished it off with a dance.... Even Wes "shaked" it up a bit with Tate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC_c0U4gI/AAAAAAAABUc/21RS5GFMMos/s1600-h/DSC01398.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422548346677289474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC_c0U4gI/AAAAAAAABUc/21RS5GFMMos/s320/DSC01398.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was a little tired the next morning, but we had a great breakfast and swam some more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our last adventure was to&lt;br /&gt;Fond du Lack, Wisconsin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was by Far the most exciting thing we have done in a long time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Notice the temperature gage on my rear view window.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC_C22EEI/AAAAAAAABUU/7LkCk_a3Npg/s1600-h/DSC01455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422548339708530754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC_C22EEI/AAAAAAAABUU/7LkCk_a3Npg/s320/DSC01455.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At this point I started doubting myself, wondering what I was getting my family involved in. Then we met the dogs.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC-mPucYI/AAAAAAAABUM/HnfVOOXMhRM/s1600-h/DSC01459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422548332028260738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC-mPucYI/AAAAAAAABUM/HnfVOOXMhRM/s320/DSC01459.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Let the Dog Sled training begin. It was incredible!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC-XqD39I/AAAAAAAABUE/HCGBRfrzK7Y/s1600-h/DSC01465.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422548328112185298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC-XqD39I/AAAAAAAABUE/HCGBRfrzK7Y/s320/DSC01465.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;OK, Yes I realize I look like a 369 lb women, let me remind you of the temperature outside. I went to Fleet Farm and bought the Artic Grade Carharts and masks for all the family. I had so many layers on I could barely move!!! It was so worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC9zb8nvI/AAAAAAAABT8/IjAYk6W7Rvk/s1600-h/DSC01481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422548318389313266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0DC9zb8nvI/AAAAAAAABT8/IjAYk6W7Rvk/s320/DSC01481.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Wes had his own sled and Dog Team, his lead dog was Denali - very fitting for our Family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-E1lD5RI/AAAAAAAABT0/QlYNdgZ79BU/s1600-h/DSC01483.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422542941665355026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-E1lD5RI/AAAAAAAABT0/QlYNdgZ79BU/s320/DSC01483.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids &amp;amp; I were pulled by a 16 Dog team, our lead Dog was Buck. The picture above is Tye learning how to guide the team. Tate, Taylor &amp;amp; I were just in the sled along for the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-D3fBsPI/AAAAAAAABTk/YtqtRzX6cYg/s1600-h/DSC01473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422542924997046514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-D3fBsPI/AAAAAAAABTk/YtqtRzX6cYg/s320/DSC01473.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The funnest part was in the Forrest, we would whip through the trees, hills and jumps and I seriously can not put into words how much I loved it. We almost tipped one time and Wes only had one biff on his sled. At the end, I did get a change to drive my own team, and I must admit it was a rush. Out of all the adventures we've taken, this will definitely be one we never forget!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids keep asking everyday to go back and we all fell in love with the Siberian Husky Dogs,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-DhzXzXI/AAAAAAAABTc/QAk3I7Wlubc/s1600-h/DSC01491.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422542919176801650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-DhzXzXI/AAAAAAAABTc/QAk3I7Wlubc/s320/DSC01491.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was Amber, Taylor's favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-DA5qzXI/AAAAAAAABTU/3MILS8fmJoY/s1600-h/DSC01496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422542910344842610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0C-DA5qzXI/AAAAAAAABTU/3MILS8fmJoY/s320/DSC01496.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On the way home we were all so tired....look at all the drool coming out of Taylor's mouth and Tate's spilled Happy meal, he was to tired to eat! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This will always be a week worth remembering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Here is a little Clip of Wes coming in after one of his "Runs" - he's an official Musher!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ba89761a94df5ce5" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dba89761a94df5ce5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D758CA7A888F52AFBA555F629AE51245EBDAFCC0.2EDD0AD39E649D57AF280A424DDFB2E8020C87F1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dba89761a94df5ce5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DghQxBTvCC7qJYrR_vextw4s58Qg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dba89761a94df5ce5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D758CA7A888F52AFBA555F629AE51245EBDAFCC0.2EDD0AD39E649D57AF280A424DDFB2E8020C87F1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dba89761a94df5ce5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DghQxBTvCC7qJYrR_vextw4s58Qg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4325980060001531150?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4325980060001531150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4325980060001531150&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4325980060001531150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4325980060001531150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/week-to-remember.html' title='A week to Remember....'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/S0R4Ht42sAI/AAAAAAAABV0/6rfxzPBJBUA/s72-c/PC270830%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4395054888268947827</id><published>2010-01-02T20:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T20:20:00.687-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet the...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meet the Newest Member of our Family......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz_-PwfNUcI/AAAAAAAABTM/qQJsM36yWy4/s1600-h/DSC01499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422332023044657602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz_-PwfNUcI/AAAAAAAABTM/qQJsM36yWy4/s320/DSC01499.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The whole make up thing from Santa is causing some serious issues at our house...My sweet little girl is turning into a drama "clown" instead of queen!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4395054888268947827?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4395054888268947827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4395054888268947827&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4395054888268947827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4395054888268947827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2010/01/meet.html' title='Meet the...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz_-PwfNUcI/AAAAAAAABTM/qQJsM36yWy4/s72-c/DSC01499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-7862305712061952299</id><published>2009-12-30T16:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T16:48:01.935-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sister Karry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz55emcNcPI/AAAAAAAABTE/I7iGH3WfwfM/s1600-h/fEBRUARY2008+186.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421904568022561010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz55emcNcPI/AAAAAAAABTE/I7iGH3WfwfM/s320/fEBRUARY2008+186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On December 30, 197_ my Sister Karry Lee was born. She has been my true best Friend every since. She is witty, beautiful, smart and extrmely sassy, my kind of women! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Love you so much &amp;amp; Hope you have a Happy Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I forgot to mention how much my entire family loves her.... This past week she flew up to visit and watch how my entire family is chasing her in the swimming pool....we all love Karry!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-beeb2c7d73456b6c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbeeb2c7d73456b6c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3E5AE377FCECBA44FDD0C8FB6C7487C8158ABD27.23D8D68AD646F9AA0BFE73324A19861C8F43A459%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbeeb2c7d73456b6c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DsY9cEtmtV59Ed32c8KXa9jIQGSM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbeeb2c7d73456b6c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331889581%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3E5AE377FCECBA44FDD0C8FB6C7487C8158ABD27.23D8D68AD646F9AA0BFE73324A19861C8F43A459%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbeeb2c7d73456b6c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DsY9cEtmtV59Ed32c8KXa9jIQGSM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-7862305712061952299?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/7862305712061952299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=7862305712061952299&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7862305712061952299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7862305712061952299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-sister-karry.html' title='My Sister Karry'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz55emcNcPI/AAAAAAAABTE/I7iGH3WfwfM/s72-c/fEBRUARY2008+186.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1502054391165273184</id><published>2009-12-27T14:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T11:24:30.109-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fabulous!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;We had a Fabulous Christmas Eve &amp;amp; Christmas Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've decided the thing I love most about Christmas Eve is all of the year to year traditions we do. For example, the gingerbread houses. My kids believe that the houses are a gift to the elves that visit all year - a snack - according to Sissy that they eat throughout the year.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0pa_fIziI/AAAAAAAABS8/XTz1yOjY3_U/s1600-h/DSC01311.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421535070119317026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0pa_fIziI/AAAAAAAABS8/XTz1yOjY3_U/s320/DSC01311.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The fun part is that they are actually starting to look like houses, in years past our houses have turned out pretty grim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bLIaTs1I/AAAAAAAABS0/sFrwLWQD_FY/s1600-h/DSC01314.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421519404474282834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bLIaTs1I/AAAAAAAABS0/sFrwLWQD_FY/s320/DSC01314.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The elves also bring the Christmas Pajamas for the year. I can look at any Christmas picture, look at the pajamas the kids are wearing and can tell you everything about that year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bKrcuEnI/AAAAAAAABSs/8qZFdNKqnnk/s1600-h/DSC01312.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421519396699771506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bKrcuEnI/AAAAAAAABSs/8qZFdNKqnnk/s320/DSC01312.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's one of my favorite traditions.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bKKqVGCI/AAAAAAAABSk/QAvOoi3v5Hs/s1600-h/DSC01324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421519387898484770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bKKqVGCI/AAAAAAAABSk/QAvOoi3v5Hs/s320/DSC01324.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We also usually have a really formal Christmas Eve dinner, but this year all I did was fix 4 different soups, it was still great, but we always have dinner by candle light. (And yes, my kids still spend most of the dinner fighting over who gets to blow the candles out!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bJu10W4I/AAAAAAAABSc/XsdbYK1YM3w/s1600-h/DSC01313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421519380430478210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bJu10W4I/AAAAAAAABSc/XsdbYK1YM3w/s320/DSC01313.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Every year they anxiously await hearing Santa's Bells - (The signal that Santa is close, and ready to land, but can't because the kids are still awake)  This year in particular they were glued to the window.  Tate especially was checking every few minutes waiting to hear the bells.  Trust me, this in the only night of the year the kids don't argue about going to sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bJXNP6sI/AAAAAAAABSU/5ddaLxks9KM/s1600-h/DSC01327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421519374086302402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0bJXNP6sI/AAAAAAAABSU/5ddaLxks9KM/s320/DSC01327.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We hurry and made some Cookies for Santa, but hopefully he was full...are cookies...not so hot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y2ekoROI/AAAAAAAABSM/WT2ZZGrKVOU/s1600-h/DSC01328.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421516850622645474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y2ekoROI/AAAAAAAABSM/WT2ZZGrKVOU/s320/DSC01328.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wes read the traditional Christmas Bedtime story, Twas the Night before Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y2Li4YtI/AAAAAAAABSE/HsugnEnZ5FM/s1600-h/DSC01336.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421516845515039442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y2Li4YtI/AAAAAAAABSE/HsugnEnZ5FM/s320/DSC01336.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And soon......they were all sound asleep - in my bed, unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y1stvgdI/AAAAAAAABR8/7YfEDcSGZ1k/s1600-h/DSC01338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421516837239095762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y1stvgdI/AAAAAAAABR8/7YfEDcSGZ1k/s320/DSC01338.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One picture before all the excitement begins, although this year it was pretty rough getting them to cooperate with the shot,  think I had to take 4 before I could get them to look at me instead of the presents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y1JMno3I/AAAAAAAABR0/Sgw08d-JLd8/s1600-h/DSC01343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421516827704927090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y1JMno3I/AAAAAAAABR0/Sgw08d-JLd8/s320/DSC01343.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor got her Make Up, (Which has been nothing but a nightmare) and all of her Saddle Club Girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y0wSpizI/AAAAAAAABRs/lb4FdM5kaDA/s1600-h/DSC01344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421516821019331378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0Y0wSpizI/AAAAAAAABRs/lb4FdM5kaDA/s320/DSC01344.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tate finally got the horses he has been waiting for.  (For weeks, every time we go to Fleet Farm, a big ranch store, he has left in tears over these tiny little horses) It's seriously was all he needed to make him happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SqXfmGLI/AAAAAAAABRk/x8_1leCCnZI/s1600-h/DSC01346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421510045494286514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SqXfmGLI/AAAAAAAABRk/x8_1leCCnZI/s320/DSC01346.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tye got his signed Peyton Manning helmet, and yes, I Know, Santa was a little extreme this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SpyRTM-I/AAAAAAAABRc/ixiVgQ4lvWs/s1600-h/DSC01352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421510035502216162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SpyRTM-I/AAAAAAAABRc/ixiVgQ4lvWs/s320/DSC01352.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the funny thing was, Tate was obsessed with an electric pencil sharpener that Santa brought.  He &amp;amp; Taylor seriously spent hours, I mean hours sharpening every pencil in the house.  All day long zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, my sister would day, What is that noise?  I would say, "Don't worry, it's just the pencil sharpener."  I swear it was smoking by the end of the day.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SpllwXbI/AAAAAAAABRU/guwpyGwns-Q/s1600-h/DSC01356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421510032098352562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SpllwXbI/AAAAAAAABRU/guwpyGwns-Q/s320/DSC01356.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tye spent hours playing Checkers with Grandpa, until after about 13 games and he finally won!  He does not give up, and as soon as he won, trust me, the whole house knew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0So0TNRMI/AAAAAAAABRM/XbsHNsSNGTo/s1600-h/DSC01357.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421510018867217602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0So0TNRMI/AAAAAAAABRM/XbsHNsSNGTo/s320/DSC01357.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Christmas afternoon includes a messy house and everyone relaxing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SoXp5PLI/AAAAAAAABRE/50yoApqwtro/s1600-h/DSC01359.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421510011177745586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0SoXp5PLI/AAAAAAAABRE/50yoApqwtro/s320/DSC01359.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But my favorite moment of the day I don't have a picture of.   It was late in the afternoon and I was exhausted.  I laid down in my bed for a few minutes and Tye came in and laid down by me.  (This is a rare occasion in and of its self, Tye is not a Snuggler.)  He said "Mom, Christmas was fabulous, Thank you Mom."  I literally almost fell off the bed.  I just held him, forgot about how tired I was and started thinking about how much this day was worth it.  I truly love Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(PS. I am taking applications for anyone interested in helping me take all this Christmas down....it's definitely the worst part of the season!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1502054391165273184?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1502054391165273184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1502054391165273184&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1502054391165273184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1502054391165273184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/12/fabulous.html' title='Fabulous!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sz0pa_fIziI/AAAAAAAABS8/XTz1yOjY3_U/s72-c/DSC01311.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3188546775646052218</id><published>2009-12-22T18:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T18:59:54.808-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Ready</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Getting Ready for Christmas at our house is quite fun...but a lot of work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting up the Outside lights.......check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDDDxDZpI/AAAAAAAABQ0/thqGijjv6BQ/s1600-h/DSC01221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418044809044780690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDDDxDZpI/AAAAAAAABQ0/thqGijjv6BQ/s320/DSC01221.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A train ride to the UP of Michigan with Santa Claus........check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDCoWlBAI/AAAAAAAABQs/QB_dJ6MoyZg/s1600-h/DSC01218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418044801685980162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDCoWlBAI/AAAAAAAABQs/QB_dJ6MoyZg/s320/DSC01218.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDCCCZfFI/AAAAAAAABQk/cVJNuzlp2QU/s1600-h/DSC01213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418044791400791122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDCCCZfFI/AAAAAAAABQk/cVJNuzlp2QU/s320/DSC01213.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDBo1H0kI/AAAAAAAABQc/yQ1QJJPtND8/s1600-h/DSC01197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418044784634221122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDBo1H0kI/AAAAAAAABQc/yQ1QJJPtND8/s320/DSC01197.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids decorating their tree downstairs.....check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA1y55P2I/AAAAAAAABQU/ckfoSSc3XBU/s1600-h/DSC01144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418042382156906338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA1y55P2I/AAAAAAAABQU/ckfoSSc3XBU/s320/DSC01144.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys fighting on who get to hang the star.....check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA1SLjbaI/AAAAAAAABQM/HFkpIhG2RpE/s1600-h/DSC01147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418042373372603810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA1SLjbaI/AAAAAAAABQM/HFkpIhG2RpE/s320/DSC01147.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Decorating the tree upstairs - Mom's Tree as it is known.....check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA1Av65UI/AAAAAAAABQE/fgdKjHNjD7c/s1600-h/DSC01288.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418042368693298498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA1Av65UI/AAAAAAAABQE/fgdKjHNjD7c/s320/DSC01288.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(This is actually a beautiful 22 foot tree, that looks absolutely pathetic in this picture)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA03z8cmI/AAAAAAAABP8/nlV1o3zjCz0/s1600-h/DSC01286.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418042366294258274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA03z8cmI/AAAAAAAABP8/nlV1o3zjCz0/s320/DSC01286.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Twenty Three nativity sets up.......Check!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Yes it is the only thing in this world that I collect, nativities.  I LOVE them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA0SCfLXI/AAAAAAAABP0/llgwYwGqImU/s1600-h/DSC01287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418042356154707314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDA0SCfLXI/AAAAAAAABP0/llgwYwGqImU/s320/DSC01287.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All the little nick nacky Christmas (crap) as Wes calls it up and displayed....check!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But see that Santa &amp;amp; Rudolph on the end, it will be disappearing after this Christmas, I have heard Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer played sooooooo many times that it it magically finding it's way to the trash!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9rUfkF8I/AAAAAAAABPs/X6-UErf8cNY/s1600-h/DSC01285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418038903659829186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9rUfkF8I/AAAAAAAABPs/X6-UErf8cNY/s320/DSC01285.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Department 56 Collection set up.....check!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(This is actually Wes's thing, he gets all the houses out, arranges them and it's his Christmas Tradition, we collect a house a year, and I have to admit, it's actually enjoyable, now that our kids have learned "Don't Touch" - well for the most part.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9qztilII/AAAAAAAABPk/EZ5jh-d70Bw/s1600-h/DSC01284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418038894860080258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9qztilII/AAAAAAAABPk/EZ5jh-d70Bw/s320/DSC01284.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The stockings were hung.....check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9qezIw0I/AAAAAAAABPc/s0Eu1q3mJVw/s1600-h/DSC01237.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418038889246409538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9qezIw0I/AAAAAAAABPc/s0Eu1q3mJVw/s320/DSC01237.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Only one sledding accident to date......check!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Wes was pulling the kids on the sleds and she biffed it!  I keep telling Wes that she isn't as tough as the boys and slow down as he wips through turns, but he's going to make her tough!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9p75AoaI/AAAAAAAABPU/4JDhKzhkKvU/s1600-h/DSC01236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418038879875801506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9p75AoaI/AAAAAAAABPU/4JDhKzhkKvU/s320/DSC01236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Neighbor gifts, friends gifts, visiting teaching and teacher gifts.....check, check check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9pv3cj0I/AAAAAAAABPM/Fv7GorqU6JU/s1600-h/DSC01224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418038876648017730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzC9pv3cj0I/AAAAAAAABPM/Fv7GorqU6JU/s320/DSC01224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lots &amp;amp; Lots &amp;amp; Lots of snow.......Check!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(We actually received the 5th largest winter storm in Wisconsin History....lucky us!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Cards mailed, family pictures taken, baking...not done, sleep = none, packages mailed, shopping done, and kids counting down the seconds!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, the ultimate thing that we have done this season is spend a few days at the Osthoff resort last weekend in Lake Elton Wisconsin.  It was divine - (Look at the slide show below.) I can not possible put into words how nice it was to cozy up to the fireplace and watch ABC Family Christmas movies, drink lots and lots of Hot chocolate,  leave my lap top at home, pack the swimsuits, no wrapping or lists to worry about, only to enjoy the luxury linens, and love the fact that someone else had to come in and make the beds everyday.  I could not have asked for a more beautiful setting, Mr &amp;amp; Mrs. Claus were so attentive to my children that I almost wanted to kiss the both of them.  It was so nice to stop, escape from the busyness of life and just enjoy the Season.  The lights, music, decor &amp;amp; food were unbelievable, this will seriously be on my Chirstmas list every year.....Merry Christmas to Me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3188546775646052218?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3188546775646052218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3188546775646052218&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3188546775646052218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3188546775646052218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/12/getting-ready.html' title='Getting Ready'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SzDDDDxDZpI/AAAAAAAABQ0/thqGijjv6BQ/s72-c/DSC01221.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3634866033412218228</id><published>2009-12-22T07:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T07:28:58.212-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.11NXC/bHQ9MTI2MTQ4ODUxMzI1MSZwdD*xMjYxNDg4NTM*NDE*JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmb2Y9MA==.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/7d376c56.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=7d376c56.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3634866033412218228?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3634866033412218228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3634866033412218228&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3634866033412218228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3634866033412218228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1429132818516258309</id><published>2009-12-02T05:59:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T07:02:50.943-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Nontraditional</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;We had a very nontraditional Thanksgiving....we went on Vacation to Wisconsin Dells - our families favorite new spot!  The resort was called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chula&lt;/span&gt; Vista - and it was Fabulous.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trust me these kids were in Heaven!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdGTfdI4I/AAAAAAAABOc/h6_HVi_oVhE/s1600-h/DSC01150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410614365225034626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdGTfdI4I/AAAAAAAABOc/h6_HVi_oVhE/s320/DSC01150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Resort is huge with everything you can imagine to do.  You never have to leave the resort, you just pick up the phone call the shuttle and say, I'd like to go bowling and zip there you go, or we'd like to have some lunch and zip they pick you up.  Golfing, shopping and zip your on your way.  I can't tell you how nice it was to not remind my kids 6 times to put on seat belts! We stayed in a building on the golf course.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdF-msyNI/AAAAAAAABOU/-ElhI_XxvBw/s1600-h/DSC01154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410614359618275538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdF-msyNI/AAAAAAAABOU/-ElhI_XxvBw/s320/DSC01154.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part was they had this amazing indoor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;waterpark&lt;/span&gt; that we indulged in for hours everyday.  The slides of course were our favorite part.  You have to look closely to the circle hole in the middle, it's called the toilet bowl and it was so much fun.  I literally felt like I was 14 again, but my body soon reminded me I'm well into my 30's every time I had to climb the 4 flights of stairs carrying a two man tube to reach the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdFS9Lr4I/AAAAAAAABOM/7pn2b8sy_1w/s1600-h/DSC01153.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410614347901415298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdFS9Lr4I/AAAAAAAABOM/7pn2b8sy_1w/s320/DSC01153.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is an inside shot, but it's hard to really see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbUF5pWDI/AAAAAAAABOE/iS9gqz5VQFg/s1600-h/DSC01156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410612403071703090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbUF5pWDI/AAAAAAAABOE/iS9gqz5VQFg/s320/DSC01156.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wes's&lt;/span&gt; Sister Kylie joined us for the trip and Taylor was happy to have a new best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbT7CaLaI/AAAAAAAABN8/EW6o9Lt68x8/s1600-h/DSC01171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410612400155667874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbT7CaLaI/AAAAAAAABN8/EW6o9Lt68x8/s320/DSC01171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Wes even had a great time, but I seriously can't imagine how many stairs he climbed taking Tate &amp;amp; Taylor to the 13 different slides! (With a bad sprained ankle to top it off)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbTbpKUaI/AAAAAAAABN0/GdFGMZVE1oE/s1600-h/DSC01160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410612391728271778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbTbpKUaI/AAAAAAAABN0/GdFGMZVE1oE/s320/DSC01160.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boys love the arcade and begged everyday to go.  They swear every time, there going to hit the jackpot, they just need one more token.....  They never do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbSWoVBbI/AAAAAAAABNk/bCToGFK2tCk/s1600-h/DSC01182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410612373202732466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZbSWoVBbI/AAAAAAAABNk/bCToGFK2tCk/s320/DSC01182.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cashing in the tokens is a long dreadful process once they realize they only have enough tickets for junk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZZJjKN-DI/AAAAAAAABNc/nnVpYobgg8g/s1600-h/DSC01186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410610022924023858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZZJjKN-DI/AAAAAAAABNc/nnVpYobgg8g/s320/DSC01186.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At Night they had different shows you could go to, and we picked the magic show.  It was a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ify&lt;/span&gt; at the beginning, the magician had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;perma&lt;/span&gt; smile and I kept giggling &amp;amp; thinking to myself, is this guy serious?  But he did have some pretty neat tricks.  The kids loved it, so that's all the matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZZI838G-I/AAAAAAAABNM/bB0lzsagpXI/s1600-h/DSC01191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410610012646808546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZZI838G-I/AAAAAAAABNM/bB0lzsagpXI/s320/DSC01191.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Your going to laugh but my absolute favorite part was the fact that we had our on spa right outside our back door.  Wes &amp;amp; I could just relax in the condo and the kids spent hours playing games in the hot tub!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZZILCt5kI/AAAAAAAABM8/9eALL83HmHM/s1600-h/DSC01195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410609999270241858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZZILCt5kI/AAAAAAAABM8/9eALL83HmHM/s320/DSC01195.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning to be better about being away from home on the holidays, but places like this make it easy to forget I'm homesick!  We still tried to remind our kids about Thanksgiving and why we celebrate it, but Tate said if we can come here for next Thanksgiving it "might" make it on his list for one of his favorite holidays!  I don't think my spill on the importance of being thankful for what we have was even heard! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Very Nontraditional.....But Very Fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1429132818516258309?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1429132818516258309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1429132818516258309&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1429132818516258309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1429132818516258309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/12/very-nontraditional.html' title='Very Nontraditional'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SxZdGTfdI4I/AAAAAAAABOc/h6_HVi_oVhE/s72-c/DSC01150.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-310865314729113451</id><published>2009-11-07T05:51:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T01:08:16.217-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Nauvoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There are countless moments when the complexities of life wear me down. The moments of my inadequacy as a mother, wife, person in general seem to come more often and the trials of life seem to surface. Then you visit Nauvoo.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpxPRTNmI/AAAAAAAABMc/bFvwJuPOR2w/s1600-h/Oct+3+2009+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339622734378594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpxPRTNmI/AAAAAAAABMc/bFvwJuPOR2w/s320/Oct+3+2009+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Enter the homes they left behind....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339015904919106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpN6p4fkI/AAAAAAAABL8/U1bR7O6EoaQ/s320/Oct+3+2009+078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And walk in the streets where they walked...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339007427829810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpNbEyYDI/AAAAAAAABL0/P_ZyF43OAIg/s320/Oct+3+2009+084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The reverence is overwhelming,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402354434584823026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvkEvEAvRPI/AAAAAAAABMk/oR1-srQFQZM/s320/Oct+3+2009+094.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The stories of hardship, faith and endurance bring you to a different understanding, and you are humbled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402355758357314306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvkF8HcsewI/AAAAAAAABMs/wliuJQ0E5rI/s320/Oct+3+2009+088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;When you cross the river they crossed, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402355768588487730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvkF8tj_zDI/AAAAAAAABM0/NRc3ZEvhYus/s320/Oct+3+2009+150.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You imagine life, their life and witness the simpleness of it all.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339018203090098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpODNzzLI/AAAAAAAABME/kRdgsZyGanM/s320/Oct+3+2009+072.jpg" border="0" /&gt;You learn about a Prophet, his life, his legacy, and you love him so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401337737433035122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVoDf-bsXI/AAAAAAAABLk/b3iYvS_MYP8/s320/Oct+3+2009+111.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You stand in the room where he spent his last moments of this life...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401337728514684706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVoC-wIdyI/AAAAAAAABLU/4YRn3Bk7gq0/s320/Oct+3+2009+132.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And testify to your sweet sons of his divinity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401337716561454738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVoCSOQppI/AAAAAAAABLM/BAA2S4nazPg/s320/Oct+3+2009+144.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You pray, that your sons will love each other the way they did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339003631894482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpNM7w_9I/AAAAAAAABLs/Dw0BpywLsoE/s320/Oct+3+2009+105a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;You treasure the fact that your family is forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339617353037778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpw7OSd9I/AAAAAAAABMU/pJH0g2jahVw/s320/Oct+3+2009+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Then before you go home, you realize how blessed you are to be a mother of them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401335112244831330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVlqsYypGI/AAAAAAAABKs/SIryGTK6odU/s320/Oct+3+2009+211.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Sister to her,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVoDNhPW4I/AAAAAAAABLc/7UmQFwCSeXA/s1600-h/Oct+3+2009+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401337732478753666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVoDNhPW4I/AAAAAAAABLc/7UmQFwCSeXA/s320/Oct+3+2009+119.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And to have the blessings of an Eternal Family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401335105677045138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVlqT66LZI/AAAAAAAABKk/Bb94fB5sHDw/s320/Oct+3+2009+215.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And when those moments of inadequacy come, I remember, I remember them, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and hope to have more faith,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401335099667186514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVlp9iDA1I/AAAAAAAABKc/sfPBWeHibNY/s320/Oct+3+2009+234b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and remember the spirit that I felt, the witness that I received, the realization of sacrifices made, all for the Gospel that I love.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beautiful Nauvoo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401339024710235122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpObdO8_I/AAAAAAAABMM/H6SNV1M2v1E/s320/Oct+3+2009+065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Beautiful Nauvoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-310865314729113451?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/310865314729113451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=310865314729113451&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/310865314729113451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/310865314729113451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/11/beautiful-nauvoo.html' title='Beautiful Nauvoo'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SvVpxPRTNmI/AAAAAAAABMc/bFvwJuPOR2w/s72-c/Oct+3+2009+033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-5476329532662202386</id><published>2009-11-06T16:18:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T05:38:35.427-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Costumes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;My kids are very spoiled every year by a Grandma who finds the best costumes ever!! Every &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt; the kids spend hours in front of the computer picking out their costumes! It usually takes a few days to decide, and yet Tate is always a ninja, and Sissy of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;course&lt;/span&gt;, is always one of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;princesses&lt;/span&gt; (very fitting for her little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;personality&lt;/span&gt;).  Tye just wanted to be Football payer, pretty shocking!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;One tradition we have is the annual photo shot - and trust me, my kids love it! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;For the report of Halloween Night, you must ready my sister's blog, she is a much better story teller than I ever could be.   &lt;a href="http://www.talesofthetimes.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.talesofthetimes.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Enjoy the photos below!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-5476329532662202386?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5476329532662202386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=5476329532662202386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5476329532662202386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5476329532662202386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween-costumes.html' title='Halloween Costumes'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-8718794677695341765</id><published>2009-11-06T16:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T16:17:28.717-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI1NzU*NTc4MjUwNCZwdD*xMjU3NTQ1ODQ3Mjc3JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*5YjE*ZjgyNTZhOWY*YmNiOTU5OGQ*OTQxNTIwMDdlYSZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/3caa6da9.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=3caa6da9.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-8718794677695341765?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8718794677695341765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=8718794677695341765&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8718794677695341765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8718794677695341765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2846955640862648844</id><published>2009-10-19T05:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T06:35:06.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;My husband has been on a 9 day hunting trip, and tonight, he's home AT LAST!  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that he's been able to go but let me tell you a little about the time he's been gone.  I had originally planned all these little fun activities for the kids &amp;amp; I.  I knew that trying to get all 3 kids and to their activities, plus add a few of my own was going to be rough....but I planned it out and thought I had every covered.  I was also in charge of the ranch while he was gone, but recently hired a young man to help us so I thought we would be fine.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Does anything in life go as planned?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On Monday the guy we hired called in sick - for the week!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;By Tuesday, Sick child Number 1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDGE5PSjI/AAAAAAAABJs/jFvG5F7lh9c/s1600-h/DSC01082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394260225355106866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDGE5PSjI/AAAAAAAABJs/jFvG5F7lh9c/s320/DSC01082.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By Thursday, Sick Child #2 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDFu91JkI/AAAAAAAABJk/ysDBYk-kr5c/s1600-h/DSC01083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394260219468785218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDFu91JkI/AAAAAAAABJk/ysDBYk-kr5c/s320/DSC01083.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; By Friday, Sick Child #3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDFNwoqpI/AAAAAAAABJc/g-n_UUJH4pg/s1600-h/DSC01048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394260210555071122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDFNwoqpI/AAAAAAAABJc/g-n_UUJH4pg/s320/DSC01048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this sick child is a littler harder to deal with because she lives underneath our kitchen table.  I'm not kidding.  She has her bed down there, toys, books, a phone, her babies....and in her words "It's my HOUSE".  If you look closely below you can see her pink phone in the sick of her kitchen.  Every time I have to check on her I have to crawl done under the table....nice huh? (one more side note, she always has to have a flashlight on underneath the table....cause that's hers light!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDEkcsCzI/AAAAAAAABJU/Zp5kEbsUe_c/s1600-h/DSC01047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394260199465552690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDEkcsCzI/AAAAAAAABJU/Zp5kEbsUe_c/s320/DSC01047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When she's feeling better she plays on top of the table.  She's mostly into playing restaurant right now.  All those pink slips of paper is how she takes orders and all the food is served as balloons.  I'm not kidding, Tate had this packet of 1,000 water balloons that he got for his birthday and all your food is served as balloons.  (I am so tired of picking up little balloons all over my house I could scream....I did try vacuuming them, don't recommend it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDEHCQRAI/AAAAAAAABJM/PZvFGaLpd5k/s1600-h/DSC01088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394260191570052098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDEHCQRAI/AAAAAAAABJM/PZvFGaLpd5k/s320/DSC01088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tye is the worst out of the bunch.  I thought it might be swine flu (I'm a little paranoid, since one of our schools in town has 40% of the kids sick with the flu) But luckily it is pneumonia.  We spent two days at the hospital because he had so much fluid in his lungs.  We didn't have to spend the night, just go in during the day for treatments &amp;amp; xrays.  The funny thing is we've become addicted to the hospital cafeteria.  I know it sounds disgusting....but it's fantastic!  When Tye had surgery in August, we would eat there a lot, and as soon as Tye found out where we were going each day he would beg to eat there.  Also it's so cheap and has the best smoothies.  I would call my sister everyday and tell her what we would get for lunch and how much it would cost.  Example one day: 2 Smoothies, 2 Ham Sandwiches, a croissant club sandwich ( for me of course) lg. cup of soap a salad bar, a sugar cookie, two drink, two donuts...and chocolate mouse (for me again).  All for $13.65.  I'm telling you, it's a steal, and the food is great.  Just in case anyone wants to eat at the cafe inside Aurora Hospital!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would call Wes each night and tell him everything that was happening between the kids and the ranch, and he felt bad.  Not bad enough to hop on a plane and come home, but bad enough to get the service of Martha Stewart Flowers. com! It was a nice surprise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Stw-_ukTN-I/AAAAAAAABJE/xdthb6U3hhk/s1600-h/DSC01086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394255718235977698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Stw-_ukTN-I/AAAAAAAABJE/xdthb6U3hhk/s320/DSC01086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So every night while he was being wined and dined eating steak and lobster at this private hunting lodge in Kansas, or his 5 day Elk hunt in Jackson Hole....I was at home, eating hospital food and thinking how much I'm glad that I'm not a single mom, thinking one sick child in hard...3 is a disaster,thinking that the fact that he puts his wet towels on my bed drives my crazy, but he's worth it, thinking that if someone actually saw the condition of my home I would die, thinking that it's time I cashed in the massage certificate I've been hanging on to, thinking I'm so glad he'll be back at the ranch, thinking I better wash all the sheets today (minus, sissy's bed - wink wink!!) thinking it's a good thing I haven't left the house in a week because my roots are so bad that a trip to the salon is 5 1/2 weeks over due, thinking that I'm not going to get away with grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner any more, thinking I'm happy that my husband had a great trip, and actually got tons of birds in Kansas and a elk in Wyoming, but mostly thinking ....that tonight, AT LAST, he's home!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2846955640862648844?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2846955640862648844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2846955640862648844&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2846955640862648844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2846955640862648844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/10/at-last.html' title='At Last...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/StxDGE5PSjI/AAAAAAAABJs/jFvG5F7lh9c/s72-c/DSC01082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2996251572490977615</id><published>2009-09-21T14:34:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T06:47:53.844-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Means.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm just not ready for fall....it use to be my favorite season....until I moved to Wisconsin and realized what comes afterwards. (I am so not ready for another Wisconsin Winter.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Nevertheless I still manage to love it and Fall in our household means the following....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a LOT of this&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384009623743748402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SrfYOiKH2TI/AAAAAAAABHM/-mCF-Uhdt1E/s320/Sep+2009+132.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We are a football family. Always have been...always will be. The funnest part is actually watching Tye play "tackle" for the first time. Every year we've put him in Flag, but decided this year to let him have a chance at the "Big League - Pop Warner." Sissy calls it "Pop Corner" but you know what I mean. He's done super well. He was a little disappointed that he wasn't quarterback, but when he learned there was 12 running plays and only 1 play where they actually throw the ball he was happy the coach put him at Running Back. He rushed for over 100 yards and got his first touchdown on the first game and it was Fun....I can't tell you how many hours our family spends in the Fall watching football, too much to even mention, but I wouldn't change it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The other stuff that fall brings is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384012628720920146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Srfa9ckgplI/AAAAAAAABIE/ySRW8_QCyvg/s320/Sep+2009+175.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the fact that the hundred of acres of corn fields that surround our house is about to be cut down. I love the rows and rows of corn and pretty soon they'll all disappear. The picture above is my view from our front porch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fall also means it's time to turn the oven on again. I don't know why I prefer to cook in the fall/winter, but I always enjoy it more. One of my FAVORITE things in life is Carmel Apples - and trust me, I seriously could eat these for breakfast, lunch &amp;amp; dinner. When Fall rolls around it's time to bust out the homemade Carmel apples, with fresh apples. Love it!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384009648996591090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SrfYQAO3pfI/AAAAAAAABHk/5YJYGDaXfCk/s320/Sep+2009+158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fall also means an end to the thing my kids love most....being outside. I just dread the fact when they can't go outside and play. I've let the kids have friends over more than ever, just so that they can enjoy the last few weeks of doing the things they love best. Tate's best friend Jared is allergic to horses, so they play on this.....We've only had one small accident where Tate actually ran into the the little pond in front of the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384012618000243410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Srfa80ogGtI/AAAAAAAABH8/UgamYCUBCEM/s320/Sep+2009+098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and Tye's best Friend Andrew loves to ride, so they spend most of their time doing this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384012599939949666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Srfa7xWl5GI/AAAAAAAABHs/jB2D13Earhs/s320/Sep+2009+090.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Wes has been busy helping Coach Tye's football I've been busy taking take to Baseball. It's his first time playing machine pitch and we weren't sure how he was going to like it. Tate could care less about sports, he only plays to get the metals/trophies that are involved. Luckily he's on a great team and their undefeated so consequently he thinks he's hot stuff! He LOVES to hit, and he gets to play first base, so he's in heaven!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384472285689200962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Srl9BANwwUI/AAAAAAAABIU/uDxTRGr94Bc/s320/Sep+2009+109.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For Taylor...she's just a good sport to sit at endless Football &amp;amp; Baseball games and practices. (That's when ring pops come in handy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384012634671723330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Srfa9yvSs0I/AAAAAAAABIM/sNAmmFWqyEw/s320/Sep+2009+125.jpg" border="0" /&gt;If you ask my husband what Fall really means it comes down to one thing and one thing only. It's the time of the year I just, well any of you with husband's that love hunting as much as mine completely understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384009632945380706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SrfYPEb9nWI/AAAAAAAABHU/WJFyF3DJ3EM/s320/Sep+2009+149.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Wes has a turkey tag right now, so sometimes before school or in the afternoon's he'll pack up the boys and head to the trees. My boys LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE it, and they are so excited with the stories they come back with. They have jumped them a few times but still no Turkey. The funny thing is they come back with acorns, pine combs, used shotgun shells and they have started a little collection in my kitchen window of their new treasures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384009636298297266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SrfYPQ7XD7I/AAAAAAAABHc/375A46popn4/s320/Sep+2009+178.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I don't know if Wes is ever going to keep them quiet enough to actually get something...but he's not giving up yet! They just changed the law in Wisconsin that 10 year olds can hunt....I'm not sure who's more excited, Wes or Tye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As for me....I can't tell you how much I love the trees changing colors, the fact that my garden is full of pumpkin's to decorate with, the new soup recipes I embark on, the laziness of Sundays in front of the NFL Network, the fact that my kids are asleep every night by 8:00, the new Fall season shows that I'm addicted to and DVR religiously, new jogging suits, comfy socks, cream of wheat, apple cider and a clean house for more than 10 minutes a day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I also love my mornings...especially like the one below, foggy, dense and just watching the Sun try and break through. I have to admit living in the country makes me very mindful of the fact that I'm surrounded by beautiful landscapes...and the view from my kitchen window is amazing! (As long as you can look past the acorn pile...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384012608277278626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Srfa8QaXb6I/AAAAAAAABH0/-Gg7APuJbvQ/s320/Sep+2009+088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2996251572490977615?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2996251572490977615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2996251572490977615&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2996251572490977615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2996251572490977615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/09/fall-means.html' title='Fall Means.......'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SrfYOiKH2TI/AAAAAAAABHM/-mCF-Uhdt1E/s72-c/Sep+2009+132.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4234337806028270695</id><published>2009-09-14T12:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:57:00.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Camp Grounds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I like camping, I always have. I'm not a go go getter, but I can manage the basics. When I was trying to figure out what we were going to to for Labor Day I asked Wes if there was something he wanted to do....and as you assume, Camping it was. I googled a bunch of different National Forest Parks, but wanted something a little more exciting...but not too far away. I came across this camping place that had a cabin that sleeps six on a lake. The price was fabulous so I jumped on board. &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I spent all day long getting ready packing ice chests, sleeping bags...everything you need at about 6:00 Friday night we pull out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later we end up at the Pine Grove Campground.....Wes looked at me and said. You never once said we were camping at a campground. I said, "well were staying in the cabin, and it's on the lake...all of these people are obviously in campers" He said "I hate campgrounds...camping in a campground is not camping," I said, well Sorry, I wanted access to a bathroom and shower and plus you knew we were staying in a cabin." He said, " I thought we were staying in a cabin by ourselves, you didn't tell me we were camping with Billy and the rest of the Wisconsin Rednecks! .....He was soooooo livid he didn't talk to me for an hour! We found our little cabin, I took the kids around, showed them the lake, petting zoo, playground, park area and arcade rooms and they were thrilled. Wes slowly warmed up to the situation...but it took a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A Picture of our cabin....when we first walked in and looked around the kids started screaming...We are in the olden days, just one little cabin, they slept in the loft and loved it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380924827946374066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqzinyTS07I/AAAAAAAABFs/cIgSkx7ivvc/s320/Sep+2009+036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And the lake that was behind it...It's not fancy, but for heaven's sakes I it was ok for 4 days!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380924817747113442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqzinMTmdeI/AAAAAAAABFk/9EJbFA_g61k/s320/Sep+2009+035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We ended up spending lots of time fishing....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380928339536958066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sqzl0L_u0nI/AAAAAAAABGc/EKdPAyby3gM/s320/Sep+2009+075.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They had little row boats to rent and the kids loved it....and Wes eventually loved it too as soon as the small bass fish starting biting!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380929043069023042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqzmdI22M0I/AAAAAAAABG0/nk8sCEgPA4Q/s320/Sep+2009+074.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;The kids kept catching these little 3 inch blue gills...and thought it was the coolest thing ever! I was worried that they were going to want to keep them, but luckily they just kept throwing them back in and catching them over and over...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380928347864697058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sqzl0rBOCOI/AAAAAAAABGk/QvnsTTYBpGY/s320/Sep+2009+085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;On Saturday two of our friends and their families joined us....and all I could do was laugh when I saw them. This campground had a culture all of it's own, but they were good sports! We spent the day on the beach letting the kids swim and play in the sand....and yes, that is Wes in his cowboy boots on the beach!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381375553051661858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sq58jcKdliI/AAAAAAAABG8/ECaqYc8XChE/s320/Sep+2009+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We did some of this......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380924857631088674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sqzipg4roCI/AAAAAAAABGE/qgAn01ItBdM/s320/Sep+2009+063.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;and a lot of this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380928357764296386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sqzl1P5d7sI/AAAAAAAABGs/T9tjwBTJU_M/s320/Sep+2009+086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and I can honestly say that when we got home, every singe thing we owned smelt like campfires! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;At night, the campground had a Dance (that I will leave at that, as I'm sure you can imagine) But the next night they had a movie in the park and that was fun, and Wes Finally broke down and gave the kids some money for the arcade room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided these corny little adventures that I take my family on are so much fun. I laugh out loud at some of the things that I get myself involved in, but that's what makes life so interesting, and I'll never change! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is a full slide show of all the fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4234337806028270695?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4234337806028270695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4234337806028270695&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4234337806028270695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4234337806028270695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/09/camp-grounds.html' title='Camp Grounds'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqzinyTS07I/AAAAAAAABFs/cIgSkx7ivvc/s72-c/Sep+2009+036.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1559050321559354203</id><published>2009-09-14T12:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:48:23.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI1Mjk1MDQ3OTE1MiZwdD*xMjUyOTUwNTAwMjkzJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*5YmU3NGJkMjAyMWI*Yzg2OTNhNmNlZWFjMjMzZDUzZSZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/99f59c20.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=99f59c20.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1559050321559354203?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1559050321559354203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1559050321559354203&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1559050321559354203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1559050321559354203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6969442055606611671</id><published>2009-08-28T18:43:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T20:47:58.545-05:00</updated><title type='text'>August?????</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;**Before any of you read this will you please send me the address to your blogs, my computer was hacked and ruined so I need to place all your blogs on my favoite list again, I can't keep track of addresses!! Thank you!!!***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know that August was here….I look at my calendar with everyday filled with play dates, trips to the beach, days and the parks, packer games, football practices, deadlines (for work…not my laundry, there are no such deadlines for the amount of clothes my kids seems to destroy during summer months).  We were so lucky this summer to take so many fun vacations, spend time with friends, family and enjoying the long full days of summer.   So here is a little of what our August consisted of…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The county Fair – I’m so nerdy in the way I love home town county fairs the animals, parades, fried corn dogs and cotton candy, terrible rides that spin you around &amp;amp; around….but my favorite is always the Rodeo’s!  I’ve been to many rodeos big and small and love them all…..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379206047061504578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbHZki78kI/AAAAAAAABD8/msY-0snSQo8/s320/aug+2009+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is Tate &amp;amp; I on his favorite ride....let's just say It did me in!  I made it off the ride and to the grass before I literally lost my lunch!  The worst part is Tate grabbed my camera and started taking pictures of me...Don't worry I won't post those!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379206040853647954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbHZNa3klI/AAAAAAAABD0/4DnlQxhjhuI/s320/aug+2009+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also spent so many days on the beaches of Lake Michigan.  OK it’s not CA, it’s not anything like the beautiful beaches on the west coast, but I refuse to let it stop me.  Days in Algoma, Two Rivers, and Shawano…all these fun lakes with really nice sand beaches.  I popped up my umbrellas, read magazines, listened to my kids fight over every single thing, lost my mind a few times, got told how terrible I was every time I told them it was time to go home.  I actually have a tan line from a swimsuit and have cleaned enough sand out of my car enough times to fill a dump truck!  Here some fun pictures of those days…..&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379209815314815666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbK06YiWrI/AAAAAAAABEc/0tL6a8cXnO8/s320/aug+2009+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those little people way out there are actually my kids...the water stays shallow forever and it's fabulous, although the water is a little chilly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379209841497173442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbK2b65bcI/AAAAAAAABE0/WvEPkKtn_7s/s320/aug+2009+101.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My kids can honeslty dig in the sand for hours...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379206081198464386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbHbjt0nYI/AAAAAAAABEU/UY5MWvNAPlI/s320/aug+2009+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A lot of my days consisted of something like this…..&lt;br /&gt;Kids: We’re board&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Read a book&lt;br /&gt;Kids: That’s more boring&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  You can help me do the dishes&lt;br /&gt;Kids: We’re not the mom&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  (Gritting Her Teeth) why do mom’s have to do all the dishes?&lt;br /&gt;Kids: That’s what Mom’s do.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Go outside and play&lt;br /&gt;Kids: Play what&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Here comes the list…..ride your bikes, jump on the tramp, ride your horses, weed the garden etc….&lt;br /&gt;Kids:  We did that already&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  You already weeded the garden&lt;br /&gt;Kids:  That’s not fun… that’s work&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Well someone has to do it&lt;br /&gt;Kids:  When’s Dad coming home from work?&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Not soon enough!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular day the kids were playing in the front flower garden where we have a crappy little waterfall that never really works.  It’s our Dog’s favorite place and we finally figured out why….she loves chasing the frogs.  The kids were thrilled to find frogs and I was in heaven because it kept them entertained for the afternoon.  Pretty soon they had this cleaver idea that they were going to bring their frogs in so that Molly (the dog) wouldn’t eat them. I held my ground…..no frogs in this house.  Here’s the story&lt;br /&gt;Kids:  Mom….We found a frog and it’s living in our house.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: No you are not..put them back in the water or they’ll die&lt;br /&gt;Kids:  Your sooooooo mean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the photo recap...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375173476671879986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SphzzFMg-zI/AAAAAAAABDM/Ygr3PnjDSoA/s320/aug+2009+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Tye all excited &amp;amp; happy they caught the frogs...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375173484297517810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sphzzhmm-vI/AAAAAAAABDU/1vLKrMFBsgo/s320/aug+2009+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The kids trying to figure out the best way to make a house for it.  (Notice they grab a bowl from the kitchen that the frog can jump out of....nice try!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375173493523484978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sphz0D-QETI/AAAAAAAABDc/vkfhaImP1_4/s320/aug+2009+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Here they are all marching back to put the frog in the pond and pouting and saying things like "This stinks, why can't frogs live in the house, Mom is sooo mean, Molly's going to eat the frogs,  etc..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375173510009517202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sphz1BY09JI/AAAAAAAABDk/2bzOT06RAQk/s320/aug+2009+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They didn't realize I was taking their pictures as they were all huddled together making a plan to sneak the frog in the house at dark....good thing it never happened.  They would really think I was a mean mom!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I could go on about Summer Afternoon’s at the Davis Household, but let’s just say I seriously needed a trip to the Salon to cover up the grey hair that is getting more &amp;amp; more noticeable summer after summer.  I will miss&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379215321878023986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbP1b7gzzI/AAAAAAAABFc/FbdHMdj2oYc/s320/aug+2009+077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Fun days at the Park with Friends&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379206070292000722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbHa7FhL9I/AAAAAAAABEM/a39p6ECqN6c/s320/aug+2009+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Nights like this at Packer Stadium and fun day trips like to the lighthouse below.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375173521903922114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sphz1tsrK8I/AAAAAAAABDs/qYWWmX4mzR4/s320/aug+2009+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Build a Bear will Miss us..... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379215287966051490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbPzdmRLKI/AAAAAAAABFE/eLEB5JMtsR0/s320/Sep+2009+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The horses will feel neglected...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379209847005749330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbK2wcPoFI/AAAAAAAABE8/pO5-teMsmGQ/s320/aug+2009+058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;and Mom will be able to breathe again!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;September 1, was the big day back in school.  The boys are in a new school this year and Taylor is in a pre-school two days a week. School supplies, new clothes, dentist appointments, hair cuts, a gigantic trip to Sam’s club for lunch snacks,  princess backpacks and Tye is all the sudden to cool to wear jeans from Sams Club….seriously at 9!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379215300783576210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbP0NWNFJI/AAAAAAAABFM/4TyPqMRI7TQ/s320/Sep+2009+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379209833925792018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbK1_tvURI/AAAAAAAABEs/tlOmFQ1od0w/s320/aug+2009+086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379209825119964386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbK1e6RDOI/AAAAAAAABEk/pL7H3YKiHvc/s320/aug+2009+082.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow my entire month is gone….the summer vacation wrapped up!  Routines, schedules, 8:00 bed time’s, and I find myself already booked up for September! Here we come.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6969442055606611671?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6969442055606611671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6969442055606611671&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6969442055606611671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6969442055606611671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/08/august.html' title='August?????'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SqbHZki78kI/AAAAAAAABD8/msY-0snSQo8/s72-c/aug+2009+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6936891089200465941</id><published>2009-08-14T20:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T20:42:14.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hacked!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My computer has been hacked...something off facebook, some kind of home video....Please watch out, my computed is totally ruined!!! This totally sucks! If you get anything from me on facebook, please do not open it!  (So much for my anti-virus crap I bought) - can you tell I'm totally irritated??????  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6936891089200465941?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6936891089200465941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6936891089200465941&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6936891089200465941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6936891089200465941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hacked.html' title='Hacked!!!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4755841389853438060</id><published>2009-08-11T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T17:25:01.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready to come Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Coming home from a 10 day vacation and then trying to sum it up in one blog is literally impossible, (Without totally boring everyone). Adding pictures would take me a week since I took 2 cameras and came home with over 300 pictures. We really had a fun time visiting all our family and friends. The hard part was trying to fit everything and everyone in the short span of time. Luckily, we managed pretty well, but came home pretty tired. A short version of the trip. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 1: Arrived in Las Vegas then went to St. George &amp;amp; met up with some friends from Idaho. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 2 &amp;amp; 3: Cedar Mountain at the Cabin - Had a "Una Familia" Reunion with all the cousins.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 4: Lehi Utah: stayed with Uncle Ron and met all the future Davis members. (Wink Wink...way to go girls!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 5: Left for Flaming Gorge &amp;amp; stopped in Wyoming to see Wes's Grandpa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 6: Spent fishing at Red Lake with Tanner &amp;amp; Chelsey and Nikki &amp;amp; Travis.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 7: Rafted the Green River and Wes Fly Fished.....and caught nothing. Poor Guy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 8: Left Vernal to head to Cedar City, ended up in Heber City and was late meeting all our friends...but luckily we still got to see everyone!! (This was not a pretty day....as you can imagine).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 9: Spent with the Wise's swimming and lounging around all day, so relaxing! We all got a little sunburned, but totally worth it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Day 10: Did some back to school shopping and had Dinner with all the family one last time before heading home. (I was soooo excited to shop and really found nothing, pretty disappointed!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nevertheless, Every time I go home I'm amazed at how lucky I am to have the family and friends that make my life so happy. Everyone always asks "How's Wisconsin?" You know it's really not that bad...the real truth is that I hate that I'm 3,000 miles away from people that I love to be with. It always hard coming back. Don't worry I've already started checking fare watcher to do it all over again!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;PS...as per request by both families below are the slideshows of some of the pictures...and yes, I will mail you all CD's so you have a copy! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4755841389853438060?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4755841389853438060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4755841389853438060&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4755841389853438060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4755841389853438060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/08/ready-to-come-back.html' title='Ready to come Back'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-5208991618416607337</id><published>2009-08-11T17:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T17:02:19.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI1MDAyODExNjY4NyZwdD*xMjUwMDI4MTM2MjAzJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz1iYTg5ODA*Y2FhMDM*OTg1YTU1ZWIzMjc5OGI*NzViZCZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/b534d252.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=b534d252.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-5208991618416607337?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5208991618416607337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=5208991618416607337&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5208991618416607337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5208991618416607337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post_11.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-8395713892041001358</id><published>2009-08-11T16:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T16:56:39.082-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI1MDAyNzc3NDA2MiZwdD*xMjUwMDI3Nzk2MDE1JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz1iYTg5ODA*Y2FhMDM*OTg1YTU1ZWIzMjc5OGI*NzViZCZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/8f92c7c0.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=8f92c7c0.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-8395713892041001358?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8395713892041001358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=8395713892041001358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8395713892041001358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8395713892041001358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1824662333505960733</id><published>2009-07-27T20:12:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T16:00:30.544-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A little of life....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I just realized that I've really only posted a few times in the month of July. But honestly who has 3 hours of free time in the Summer to actually sit down and do stuff like this (especially with kids at home!) Every night I'm exhausted, I'm not sure how much more I can take, my kids have enough energy for a new adventure everyday, but I'm seriously moving slower and slower as the summer goes on.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here's a few things we've done in the last 10 days!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363319131075951266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WVWjWuqI/AAAAAAAABBc/ZdV24UQqLyA/s320/July+2+2009+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; A 3 Day Baseball tournament where Tye had 2 games a day and I ate so many sunflower seeds and snacks from the treat stand that I do not want to mention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363322341261420418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZQNbNp4I/AAAAAAAABCE/mJYoxHqgsZw/s320/July+2+2009+080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZP3MK6WI/AAAAAAAABB8/GRdylOigVJw/s1600-h/July+2+2009+090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363322335292746082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZP3MK6WI/AAAAAAAABB8/GRdylOigVJw/s320/July+2+2009+090.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went to a fun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;waterpark&lt;/span&gt; in Green Bay with some Families in our ward then went to the park and had a BBQ, the girls visit and the Boys play football.  (By this point it was raining...sorry no pictures)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to girls camp for the week and had a super fun time. Girls camp in Wisconsin is the Ritz Carlton compared to what I am use to. We all stayed in Cabins and met at the Mess Hall for all the meals (where the cook had everything ready for you), access to real bathroom and showers everyday, a fun beach to play on and boats to take out on the lake....and the stake takes care of all certification. (A leader's Dream~!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZPRmBwdI/AAAAAAAABB0/WXqC6d_iWFs/s1600-h/July+2+2009+065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363322325200650706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZPRmBwdI/AAAAAAAABB0/WXqC6d_iWFs/s320/July+2+2009+065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here's a quick pictures of me &amp;amp; some of the girls, we had 14 in our group and it was super fun....but I am so not use to a 1:30 bed time!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZPBzVNoI/AAAAAAAABBs/VS3ZeWRWW5I/s1600-h/July+2+2009+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363322320961484418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZPBzVNoI/AAAAAAAABBs/VS3ZeWRWW5I/s320/July+2+2009+070.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have about 25 Raspberry plants that are in full bloom......so YUMMY!!!! My kids through out the day will pick a bowl and bring them in to snack on, so spoiled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WVHEgm5I/AAAAAAAABBU/UcEUoAcZALQ/s1600-h/July+2+2009+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363319126920043410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WVHEgm5I/AAAAAAAABBU/UcEUoAcZALQ/s320/July+2+2009+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a family vacation to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Praire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Chein&lt;/span&gt;. It is a small town located on the banks of the Mississippi River. We spent the day throwing rocks, catching clams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363315429933839602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5S96uT9PI/AAAAAAAABA0/gNyPne6LyyQ/s320/July+2+2009+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Watching the Bald Eagles, they were everywhere, we even had one pick up a fish about 20 feet from where we were on the banks....seriously right out of a National Geographic Magazine, it's so cool in real life. To bad I didn't have time to zoom my camera in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363319115226904162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WUbgpdmI/AAAAAAAABBE/UY7GSLGXWDg/s320/July+2+2009+017a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Making the Kids stand still for a least one Picture!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363315414978331154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5S9DApAhI/AAAAAAAABAk/RlzrTUkXymE/s320/July+2+2009+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Now, look at the picture below. Anyone with a husband like mine will understand immediately why we could spend a few days in a little town on the Mississippi.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363315432936842370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5S-F6SJII/AAAAAAAABA8/kIJB8xqAOT0/s320/July+2+2009+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;a Hint??????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WU849hbI/AAAAAAAABBM/aT6n3nYC_OM/s1600-h/July+2+2009+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363319124187252146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WU849hbI/AAAAAAAABBM/aT6n3nYC_OM/s320/July+2+2009+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My husband's favorite store!!!! Wes spends hours looking at guns, scopes, anything and everything but walks out with nothing. The kids play the hunting games and pretend their hunting the stuffed animals. I walk around and look at clothing that's not my style and we walk out with Candy &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ammunition&lt;/span&gt;. But a family tradition!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363315419665837938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5S9UeOr3I/AAAAAAAABAs/aerjvoh4XuA/s320/July+2+2009+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did spurge on a nice hotel that had a fun little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;waterpark&lt;/span&gt; inside for the kids. I got caught up on People magazine and spent too much time in the hot tub! We were seriously the only family there and it was a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363315406040332562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5S8htp-RI/AAAAAAAABAc/7O8sJfBcUhg/s320/July+2+2009+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Since it's our first official week without living at the ball park we got the garden back in shape and my kids are already making plans on how to sell the produce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363323076891318562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5Z7B3DGSI/AAAAAAAABCU/nbZeIRfwK_M/s320/July+2+2009+103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We have a new addition to the family....and I wish it was a Baby, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but a Shetland Pony for Taylor will have to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363322350068633602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5ZQuPBEAI/AAAAAAAABCM/hgyd1bYOoUk/s320/July+2+2009+094.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Here's a picture of Tate leading her around while she's talking on the phone...Classic. We can't decide on a name....Smokey, Pistol, Silver or Shorty. (I like shorty!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes &amp;amp; Tye are currently at Boy Scout Camp. They have been gone for last 3 days &amp;amp; I miss them. Sleeping in between Tate &amp;amp; Taylor each night is killing my back. We actually drove up tonight to visit them, I picked up some pizza and met them at camp. They are having so much fun they don't want to come home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609283940150306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm9eOeM9bCI/AAAAAAAABCc/oT-92nOmMbY/s320/IMG_0002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609290617910786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm9eO3FD9gI/AAAAAAAABCk/0_ET4M9PlOw/s320/IMG_0035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do not have enough pictures of is the amount of food my kids consume, and the fact that our family alone could fill up an entire land fill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609308526346162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm9eP5yw_7I/AAAAAAAABC8/IxsIMa7E2T4/s320/July+2+2009+058.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Or the fact that my dishes have tripled and Taylor started washing some in the bathroom sink....."to help you Mommy!" I don't have a wide angle on my camera to fit the amounts of laundry I have from kids changing clothes three times a day.... (but I'm sure you can imagine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363609304788785378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm9ePr3qWOI/AAAAAAAABC0/t13Xo_fI_SA/s320/July+2+2009+056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the fact that my boys find it extremely hilarious to play tricks on me.....and they wonder why Mom has to dye her hair!!!!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363610786631090930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm9fl8KZgvI/AAAAAAAABDE/WbeKwl4uFV4/s320/July+2+2009+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;That sums up the last 10 days and in 48 hours we leave for our 10 Day Vacation out West. Needless to Say, Never a Dull moment for this Family but one thing is for sure I'm not as Young as I use to be!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1824662333505960733?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1824662333505960733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1824662333505960733&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1824662333505960733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1824662333505960733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/07/little-of-life.html' title='A little of life....'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sm5WVWjWuqI/AAAAAAAABBc/ZdV24UQqLyA/s72-c/July+2+2009+052.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-5037596781770005333</id><published>2009-07-17T10:49:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T13:31:12.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't get enough of your Love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;So two years and 8 days later another Baby Boy entered my life. However, born with completely opposite personality than my other son.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven Words for my "Tater Bug" aka Tate: 1. Loving, sweet, kind, tender, content, witty &amp;amp; charming. He is going to be a totally ladies man when he is older...well he already has his mom's heart!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360364633907662018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPXO-6iDMI/AAAAAAAAA_E/ye_w2k3s48w/s320/KDavis+138.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Don't get me wrong, he can also be a "swindler" and he loves to make money. He's also my best helper around the house, but it comes with a price tag. (He averages between .10 - .25 cents a job- and trust me there is a negotiation that takes place beforehand) Here's a picture of him when he was 4 trying to make money selling lemonade and Popsicles. (He's currently selling pokemon cards, and pictures to his Aunt Karry, when he knows she's coming to town)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360355759210518834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPPKaF2WTI/AAAAAAAAA9k/Ag5uw2-cGCw/s320/KimDavis+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;He's also very loving, and protective. For years he use to collect band aids and carry them around in a little backpack - ready to take care of anyone and anything that got hurt. Wes &amp;amp; I were hoping he was going to be a doctor, but he's since decided he's going to be a horse trainer when he grows up. (Rats - I was hoping for some future benefits!) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360355770200568178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPPLDCFMXI/AAAAAAAAA90/hkHnZKx9Mk0/s320/Family+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;He might actually be quite good at horse training because he's trained out horses to come to the back door for watermelon.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360587013260009106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmShfKjvXpI/AAAAAAAAA_k/6gtrnDdC53Y/s320/July+2009+094.jpg" border="0" /&gt;When we got our new puppy she accidentally ate some mouse poisoning and we warned him that it might make her sick and die....it didn't go over to well, not with his tender heart. (Thank goodness she's alive and well and about to have puppies....anyone shopping for a free dog? Well actually knowing Tate he'll probably try and turn a profit!)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360364625219911874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPXOejNgMI/AAAAAAAAA-8/ICLKdmtsY4g/s320/July+2008+103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Don't get me wrong....he can be real big stink weed and cause me Lot's of grief &amp;amp; dirty clothes.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360355762449616738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPPKmKHD2I/AAAAAAAAA9s/zcscVkzQNoA/s320/Aug+2007+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;But when we cleans up and actually hold still long enough for me to take his picture....it melts my heart!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360364617539313122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPXOB8A3eI/AAAAAAAAA-0/tdxrhyUMWP8/s320/KDavis+015a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And I forgive him for all the times he leaves his dirty socks on the kitchen counter next to my homemade bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360586994110505106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmSheDOJIJI/AAAAAAAAA_U/4muzzo9Poc8/s320/July+2009+093.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And I look at those dimples and &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360586986891893362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmShdoVF2nI/AAAAAAAAA_M/hjOA9CG_D8E/s320/July+2009+085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forget about how he can be a stinker like when he put his chewed gum on top of my lotion bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360587016716204546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmShfXbwugI/AAAAAAAAA_s/cV817lMT974/s320/July+2009+154.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Or when I wake up in the morning to a night of no sleep because he's hogged the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360587002248440018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmShehiYKNI/AAAAAAAAA_c/YPjWibzfA5g/s320/July+2009+092.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Or when I find little stashes of things he collecting in the most bizarre places. (Like his Ninja collection in my flower arrangement.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360355751946638850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPPJ_CAVgI/AAAAAAAAA9U/yZm2hmsRbPU/s320/July+2009+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's definitely is one of a kind. He's not big into sports, although he's a natural athlete. Soccer is his favorite sport and he loves making goals, but usually he's just running around pretending he's training his race horses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360603893103993138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmSw1s4KITI/AAAAAAAAA_8/UzknnC6Yp9k/s320/July+2009+137a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And once in a while we can get him to try something that doesn't involve horses, (like tubing with his dad) but that is usually not very often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360603903859720466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmSw2U8hgRI/AAAAAAAABAQ/0lV1zTxDWrA/s320/KDP+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He's honestly the most content at home, playing, pretending and believing he is the best horseman/cowboy around!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360603897432802674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmSw19AOhXI/AAAAAAAABAE/ENNeGxEWXZA/s320/July+06+075.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But this little loving Cowboy could not make my life any happier, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So to my sweet baby, I'll never get enough of his love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360588406705994626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmSiwRjJu4I/AAAAAAAAA_0/QPIRWCOZnCQ/s320/Tate+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Birthday Tate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-5037596781770005333?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5037596781770005333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=5037596781770005333&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5037596781770005333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5037596781770005333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/07/cant-get-enough-of-your-love.html' title='Can&apos;t get enough of your Love...'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SmPXO-6iDMI/AAAAAAAAA_E/ye_w2k3s48w/s72-c/KDavis+138.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1298573827120674025</id><published>2009-07-09T15:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T16:35:29.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Birthday Boy &amp; Mansions!</title><content type='html'>Well 9 years ago my life took a major turn...becoming a Mother, and not just any Mother, the Mother of Tye Michael Davis. I sat here trying to think of a way to describe the relationship I have with my oldest son but like most things in my life....it's impossible. If I could describe him in 5 words they would be: determined, strong willed, loving, athletic and sarcastic. Odd combination, but it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember vividly the day he was born, when my water broke, and laughing because Wes could barely drive to the hospital he was so excited. I remember the terrible labor (I also vividly remember watching 435 episodes of "Birth Day" on the health channel and thinking that it was nothing like I expected- needless to say it was a terrible delivery which resulted in a C-section). I also remember the instant amount of love that I had for him....completely indescribable. He can literally push me to extremes, extremely happy, extremely ferocious, extremely proud, extremely disgusted....(Here comes the but)...But being his Mother is an extreme honor. I know this boy was sent with a mission, I just literally pray I can help him become the person Heavenly Father needs him to be....if I survive, I seriously better have one of those mansions in heaven with my name on the front door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at him and can't believe how fast he's growing up. Three things happened yesterday that remind me even more. 1. He ate an entire box of cinnamon toast crunch by himself in one day. 2. I popped his first zit (Which is really sad, I was so hoping he would inherit my skin). 3. I took him to rent some video games since that's all he can do until he's better and we picked -Deal or No Deal- (a family favorite). We were driving home and he was looking at the cover. He said "There's some Hot Chicks on Here.....I like Blondy over here..." excuse me, your 9 -and "Blondy"...you've been hanging around your Dad too much. I said "I didn't know you were looking a picture of your mom and he said "Please....as if!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His surgery went well, we still will not know if there is any permanent damage, but at least he's not in pain and I pray that his little body will heal correctly this time. We started laughing because when we got to the hospital they had this tiny little gown with teddy bears on it and a teddy bear waiting on the bed for him...you can imagine how thrilled he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358026116533598402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SluIXW1AOMI/AAAAAAAAA80/KiBpD4jYXK4/s320/July+2009+096.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They kept doing all the normal things and putting heart monitor on him and oxygen tubes and he kept looking at me making the motion for me to take pictures......which was cute. The funnest thing happened when we were just waiting for the nurses to take him away. We were just hanging out and out of the blue he lets one rip...I mean the bubbly kind. Just as we started laughing (and plugging our noses) the nurse rip opens the curtain and says...let's go! Within seconds there rolling him down the hall. Wes looks over at me and said...."I feel sorry for who ever takes that blanket off him!" We couldn't stop laughing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358026122865452754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SluIXuaoptI/AAAAAAAAA88/tubNG0COZGw/s320/July+2009+100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For his birthday we surprised him with this "Hunting" cake and hunting clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358026129750427986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SluIYIEJCVI/AAAAAAAAA9E/-_EXgs4zMOI/s320/July+2009+106.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;He's so ready for Hunting Season and it's still a few more months away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358026138161214322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SluIYnZbc3I/AAAAAAAAA9M/XSIKMGaKVHQ/s320/July+2009+117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Update: Today is June 13, 6 days days post surgery and this will give you a massive look into my life with this head strong son of mine (who I still love despite the following incident)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Reminder: 6 days post surgery and no bowl movement (to be polite). Here is our conversation: Did you go poop today? He smiles, which means no, but he doesn't want to tell me the truth because I won't stop bugging him and he thinks he's being funny. (This is not funny, he has been sleeping with me the past few nights (because he doesn't want anyone hurting his stitches...nice excuse but I'm a softy so it works) but it is like sleeping with the brass section of the band. ALL NIGHT LONG little toots here, little toots there....and they STINK!!!!! Every time I roll over and move the covers I about puke!!!!! So I said, get in the car. We have to take the movies back so I stop at the grocery store. (To buy laxatives...I'm desperate) I start explaining how he can take a pill or eat a piece of chocolate. He wants the pill. I go into the store, open the box, look at the size of pill and pick the chocolate. I get into the car head down the road pull out the box of chocolates and hand him a piece. "I hate chocolate" he said, "give me the pill." I said, "The pills were to big, eat the chocolate." Tye starts whining...."I don't like chocolate." I said "you eat M&amp;amp;M's" and hand him the chocolate. He takes the chocolate and &lt;strong&gt;throws it out the window!!!!.&lt;/strong&gt; My blood pressure starts rising. I broke off another piece and said "eat the chocolate" more whining occurs. Then sissy pops off from the back seat "I'll eat some chocolate" I said "it's for Tye it's special chocolate"...more crying starts. Now I've got two kids whining and crying. I start yelling.....lose my patience...began to scream.....and throw the chocolate at him and tell him to eat it or I'm going to pull the car over. &lt;strong&gt;He throws the chocolate back at me&lt;/strong&gt;....I pull over the car.....take my voice to the highest octave possible and force him to eat the chocolate. &lt;strong&gt;IT WAS NOT PRETTY!!!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What am I Doing?????? This can not be what I was sent here to do. I am a college graduate, I'm fun, light hearted, smart, sensitive and very easy going....but I'm going to loose my mind over a stupid piece of chocolate! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I want a red door on my mansion.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1298573827120674025?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1298573827120674025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1298573827120674025&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1298573827120674025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1298573827120674025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-birthday-boy.html' title='My Birthday Boy &amp; Mansions!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SluIXW1AOMI/AAAAAAAAA80/KiBpD4jYXK4/s72-c/July+2009+096.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2161992987873224805</id><published>2009-07-05T19:18:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T12:51:57.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Island Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; For the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July Weekend we decided to head up north to Washington Island, a island about 30 miles off the northern tip of Door County located in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;middle of&lt;/span&gt; Lake Michigan. It was a great trip, here's the recap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We started off the weekend with a trip to the Golf &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Course&lt;/span&gt;. (Wes actually took all the kids &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;golfing&lt;/span&gt; with him....and I'm not sure he'll do that again.) Taylor &amp;amp; I got some manicures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355137404638628930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFFGMbkjEI/AAAAAAAAA5M/Rak5xBrc1F4/s320/July+2009+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I must say it's been years since I've had bright pink nails, but she wanted to be twins!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then found a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;miniature&lt;/span&gt; golfing course that was all about Wisconsin, the picture below was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lambou&lt;/span&gt; Field, where the packers play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355137395040703298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFFForP00I/AAAAAAAAA5E/ONHU_O_ACDs/s320/July+2009+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We couldn't leave without the boys hitting in the Batting cages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355137410238218210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFFGhSnf-I/AAAAAAAAA5U/rbIcnoGmZ80/s320/July+2009+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The ferry coming to get us....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355400435845660418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlI0UoCNfwI/AAAAAAAAA8s/zuDieeH1BN0/s320/July+2009+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then we boarded the ferry to the Island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355137418063239218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFFG-cP2DI/AAAAAAAAA5c/S9TJC1bEJk8/s320/July+2009+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The kids thought it was so amazing that our car was on a "ship" as they called it. The entire ride over they kept asking me 100 questions. What happens if the ship sinks? Will our car still work? If a robber was chasing you would you jump off the ship? How far is it? Does the pee from the bathroom go into the ocean? (They kept calling it the ocean, when actually is was Lake Michigan) How big are the sharks? Are we going to race that sail boat? Literally 100 questions, I finally told them to close their eyes and enjoy the sunshine and wind in their face....it lasted about 30 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355137422013045618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFFHNJ9G3I/AAAAAAAAA5k/vfbffSI-S6I/s320/July+2009+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt; I have so many pictures from the ferry ride, but this one was my favorite -Taylor enjoying the sunshine &amp;amp; wind....for a few seconds at least!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355155384103834578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFVcvKHk9I/AAAAAAAAA5s/lUAD2VJO-a8/s320/July+2009+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt; This was a picture of the port town and I don't know why, but I was very surprised to find the island so full of trees.  Why was I thinking there was going to be palm trees.....I'm so losing my mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first beach we went to was School House Beach. It was covered in white smooth stones, very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;unusual&lt;/span&gt;, but beautiful. The water was so clean and beautiful you could see forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355158054701910562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX4L6USiI/AAAAAAAAA6k/WS73C0rghSw/s320/July+2009+056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355158057961796018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX4YDiMbI/AAAAAAAAA6s/qzPbcfgO-v4/s320/July+2009+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The kids loved skipping rocks, but didn't like the fact they had to wear shoes to swim. The water was also a little chilly, but it was fun because there were so few people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we took a drive, and there were so many neat cottages, old, authentic, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;pricey&lt;/span&gt;,rustic, mostly all of them were really tiny and very old, but I liked them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355162971942199218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFcWaDwn7I/AAAAAAAAA70/oGmcjCOWfB0/s320/July+2009+067.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found the next beach, the first time I drove right past it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; there was just this little sign pointing to the beach. We had to walk through this little tiny trail through the trees and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX4vdvJCI/AAAAAAAAA60/Fr2vo9tD4rM/s1600-h/July+2009+060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355158064245711906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX4vdvJCI/AAAAAAAAA60/Fr2vo9tD4rM/s320/July+2009+060.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; found the sand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355160749538958946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFaVC9iXmI/AAAAAAAAA68/um9nW4j-dDw/s320/July+2009+064.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The next problem is that there was tons of marsh land between the sand and the water that my kids were like..."You got to be kidding me" "The rock beach was better" "This is crap" "The sand is burning my feet" Wes was also pretty crabby, and because I have been to Washington Island 6 times before I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;supposta&lt;/span&gt; know everything about the stupid place.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally just said, "Look, Mom makes mistakes to and this is nothing like what the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;brochure&lt;/span&gt; said." Needless to say we packed back out lunch, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;towels&lt;/span&gt;, toys, everything back into the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My kids just lying in the sand complaining...Wes sitting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;under&lt;/span&gt; a tree complaining and I'm the only one thinking of a solution to the problem....Lucky me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355160754896324674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFaVW61SEI/AAAAAAAAA7E/NodeY9ZMN1s/s320/July+2009+065.jpg" border="0" /&gt; We did find a little farm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;museum&lt;/span&gt; and stopped for a tour. It was actually a beautiful farm settled in the early 1800's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355155399950607330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFVdqMSI-I/AAAAAAAAA58/GDstVr-gdjc/s320/July+2009+036.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The house was a little one room cabin and my kids thought it was so cool. I asked them, "could you live in this?" They were like of yes, it would be so fun...blah blah blah...on &amp;amp; on, why this would be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX3WJsCDI/AAAAAAAAA6U/FjsFZOgMtNI/s1600-h/July+2009+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355158040270866482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX3WJsCDI/AAAAAAAAA6U/FjsFZOgMtNI/s320/July+2009+045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355155402309628066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFVdy-t8KI/AAAAAAAAA6E/VTRUufxnnto/s320/July+2009+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Wes took them outside and showed them how they had to bring water in the house, and they were fine with that. He then showed them an old outside oven, how they use to wash clothes, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;grow&lt;/span&gt; their own food (no snacks) which they were all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with, then ......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355158044703029778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFX3mqZehI/AAAAAAAAA6c/MUBdYFKw1Fw/s320/July+2009+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wes showed them where they would have to go to the bathroom (picture above) when they couldn't make it to the outhouse and they were like....."FORGET IT" I'm not cleaning that thing out! You can imagine the other remarks made....but I'm trying to keep this clean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355155406788349666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFVeDqhzuI/AAAAAAAAA6M/ddB0N12V3rM/s320/July+2009+042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Taylor and I enjoyed rocking on the front &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;porch&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tye loved pulling Tate &amp;amp; Taylor around on the old carriages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355168975183124834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFhz137mWI/AAAAAAAAA8E/E8d24IBXq3s/s320/July+2009+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What you probably didn't notice about the picture above was that Tate stood up and started pretending to whip the horses (Tye) and smacked Taylor right in the face!!!! She started crying and screaming like crazy that this couple came around the corner to see what happened and I said "Don't worry it's nothing, the Davis Family is just here, along with Mrs. Drama!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got on the Road again......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355168968878782306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFhzeY292I/AAAAAAAAA78/j80z-wg_RkY/s320/July+2009+058.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;and as you can see the island was covered in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;vegetation&lt;/span&gt;, with big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt; trees hanging over the small windy roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And Finally, after two previous attempts to spend the day on the lake, we found a beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355160762057826530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFaVxmRIOI/AAAAAAAAA7U/d1RuXMRNyZA/s320/July+2009+080.jpg" border="0" /&gt; One that was sandy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355160758897182306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFaVl0thmI/AAAAAAAAA7M/qSaNo1rfj60/s320/July+2009+074.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Warm, and super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;fun to&lt;/span&gt; swim and play in....I did it!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355160767606367378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFaWGRJJJI/AAAAAAAAA7c/hhrBaSCeQ-I/s320/July+2009+081.jpg" border="0" /&gt; At the end of the trip before we headed for home, we found this fabulous ice cream store called "One more Lick" and trust me, they know what they are talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355162964925507794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFcV_62aNI/AAAAAAAAA7k/Yjix5XaBCLE/s320/July+2009+087.jpg" border="0" /&gt; There was a river behind it that you could canoe on in and it seriously was set so beautifully in the woods. They also had 2 huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;playsets&lt;/span&gt; for the kids and Wes &amp;amp; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;sat and&lt;/span&gt; read Sunday's paper. It was so relaxing~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355162967540180226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFcWJqPJQI/AAAAAAAAA7s/1-N52qz-fd4/s320/July+2009+090.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't stop yet, the story is not done. Let me tell you about some of the "realities" of the trip that I do not have pictures of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. At one beach Taylor and I were standing in the water splashing around. Out comes a guy in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;speedo&lt;/span&gt;....of course Taylor has never seen anything like this and looks and me and says "Nasty" I couldn't stop laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have to admit I got a little nauseous on the ferry...no clue why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The only healthy item of food my kids ate all weekend was the carrots and celery appetizer at Tony &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Romas&lt;/span&gt;....am I terrible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I was sitting on the beach, just thinking about how good it was to be away from the ranch when out of the blue Wes asks...."Do you have a calculator?" ....WHAT....are you serious???? I keep one right here in my beach bag. FOR HEAVEN'S SAKES!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked calmly, why do you need a calculator? He said, I think I want to buy a farm, I found a whole bunch of farms for sale on the Internet. In my mind I'm thinking.....Well, you already own every plaid shirt known to mankind so you mind as well buy a farm to go with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have enough sand in my car to build my own beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I canceled our hotel rooms when I found out the swimming pool was out of service, totally irritating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. We had a pathetic attempt at Fireworks...so pathetic It's not worth writing about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Taylor has a Davis Bladder, and she has to go the bathroom ALL THE TIME, and I'm not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;exaggerating&lt;/span&gt;. We were standing in line at the ice cream store and a lady was in front of us. Taylor started dancing around, (The in trouble Dance) and out of the blue, she says to the lady..."Do you have to go poop or pee?" At this point what do you....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I ruined my manicure playing hours of Frisbee on the beach with Tye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. There was a very large man on the beach with us and Tate asked me why he had boobs? I started laughing and said, "Those are man boobs," he said..."I hope I don't get those when I'm a Dad." I said, "I hope not too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's the untold version.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Son who after I got my hair done on Friday Night was mad at me because "You still look like you".... he told me as I picked him up from the Golf Course. Thanks, son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355168992428154754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFh02Hd34I/AAAAAAAAA8c/8QT6zNoYku8/s320/July+2009+085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A daughter I can't even began to describe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355168985920648514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFh0d39NUI/AAAAAAAAA8U/-fhZdP_nPOs/s320/July+2009+049.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A husband who hates the beach, wants to become a Farmer but is a good sport with all these adventures I take us on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355168978264419378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFh0BWkbDI/AAAAAAAAA8M/sPxECR44P20/s320/July+2009+076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally my last son, who is heading into a hard week. One of my favorite moments of the entire trip was when he decided to sit in the front seat with me and we just drove holding hands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355399135093071714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlIzI6WoH2I/AAAAAAAAA8k/N8_8uOOtJxg/s320/July+2009+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the major miracle was that I actually got this thing posted within hours after coming home....miracle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2161992987873224805?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2161992987873224805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2161992987873224805&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2161992987873224805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2161992987873224805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/07/island-fun.html' title='Island Fun'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SlFFGMbkjEI/AAAAAAAAA5M/Rak5xBrc1F4/s72-c/July+2009+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-8086560614151315028</id><published>2009-06-28T20:27:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T16:48:18.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well I pulled it off...and it was better than I even imagined. As most of you know Tye is going to for double &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;surgery&lt;/span&gt; next Tuesday, two days before his birthday. He was really disappointed because he knew that meant nothing fun for his birthday. What he didn't remember is that his Mom is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;phenomenal&lt;/span&gt; and loves to have parties! Needless to say I planned a big surprise Birthday party for both Tye &amp;amp; Tate on the same day. (Their birthdays are so close, It's always been easier to throw one big party).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I almost didn't pull it off. Tate got in the car one day after summer school and said, "Are you sending my friends letters?" I said, "No, why would I send your friends letters?" He said, "I don't know, but that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt;, send your own friends letters!" I was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but planning a surprise party for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kindergarten&lt;/span&gt; class was going to be tricky. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered the cakes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353586005550160162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCG4dR2SI/AAAAAAAAA3c/FSpQ7jxhp48/s320/June+3+09+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;Tate's of course with Horses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353586002499092578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCGtF2QGI/AAAAAAAAA3U/pJlZfbhjI2A/s320/June+3+09+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And Tye has been telling me for weeks he wanted a "Colts" cake, no shocker there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pizza Hut was nice enough to host 30 kids 6-9 years old! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353586008515308418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCHDgOa4I/AAAAAAAAA3k/KTT83t9FQkk/s320/June+3+09+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;neighbor&lt;/span&gt; tell the boys he was taking them bowling and he brought them down to meet all their friends. They were both totally surprised, shocked and embarrassed. Tye's face went red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; and Tate wasn't sure what to do, so he just kept looking around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353586015246266290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCHclAr7I/AAAAAAAAA3s/rOlwEcgGfj8/s320/June+3+09+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As Always, you have to sing Happy Birthday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353590036210613330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFxf1nfFI/AAAAAAAAA38/Fsz2KPB0gT0/s320/June+3+09+062.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Make some wishes and blow out the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Candles..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFyChONCI/AAAAAAAAA4M/9dnbwckyih4/s1600-h/June+3+09+053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353590045520311330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFyChONCI/AAAAAAAAA4M/9dnbwckyih4/s320/June+3+09+053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Open Presents (my kids favorite part).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFx_wXFoI/AAAAAAAAA4E/6CXO0fzZHko/s1600-h/June+3+09+069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353590044778501762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFx_wXFoI/AAAAAAAAA4E/6CXO0fzZHko/s320/June+3+09+069.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat pizza, breadsticks, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;rootbeer&lt;/span&gt; and cake &amp;amp; ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCH2x03pI/AAAAAAAAA30/EI2q_B0mxLI/s1600-h/June+3+09+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353586022279339666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCH2x03pI/AAAAAAAAA30/EI2q_B0mxLI/s320/June+3+09+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then head to the Tundra Lodge, a huge indoor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;waterpark&lt;/span&gt; in downtown Green Bay, it's one of our family's favorite spots! (What I was thinking taking 25 kids to a waterpark...well let's put it this way, I wasn't thinking!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353590052883145186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFyd8qIeI/AAAAAAAAA4U/RyV_bjbxvM0/s320/June+3+09+073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fun never ended as the kids went from pool to pool trying out all the activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352558106373251938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkgbPRoD42I/AAAAAAAAA3M/AVPg5Cx8JO4/s320/June+3+09+117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353590060415406322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvFy6AfUPI/AAAAAAAAA4c/H0t_KfmZ4hs/s320/June+3+09+083.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353592495513245682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvIApdDl_I/AAAAAAAAA4k/KLzpMbpxv9Y/s320/June+3+09+118.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353595537395893794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvKxtWZRiI/AAAAAAAAA48/gPiXjSDRCzk/s320/June+3+09+106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352558104767716130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkgbPLpRWyI/AAAAAAAAA3E/1C3B0ZARQa4/s320/June+3+09+134.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352558087346789938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkgbOKvzHjI/AAAAAAAAA20/yWGCOuuL74k/s320/June+3+09+142.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the day, the kids were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt;, I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt;, but it really turned out so much better than I even imagined. I love my boys, and so happy they had such a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had to include one last picture, Tate was so tired by the end of the day he actually fell asleep while Wes &amp;amp; I were cleaning up......so sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkgbN4PrEeI/AAAAAAAAA2s/ht-z7TjsmLw/s1600-h/June+3+09+150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352558082380206562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkgbN4PrEeI/AAAAAAAAA2s/ht-z7TjsmLw/s320/June+3+09+150.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-8086560614151315028?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8086560614151315028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=8086560614151315028&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8086560614151315028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8086560614151315028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/surprise.html' title='Surprise!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkvCG4dR2SI/AAAAAAAAA3c/FSpQ7jxhp48/s72-c/June+3+09+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-7848074007734491730</id><published>2009-06-26T20:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T20:39:00.247-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; Life consists of little moments that make being a mother somewhat rewarding.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tate drew me the following pictures while he was at school:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkV0BT0lruI/AAAAAAAAA2c/kaVOQBAZFzU/s1600-h/Letter+-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351811298049240802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkV0BT0lruI/AAAAAAAAA2c/kaVOQBAZFzU/s320/Letter+-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Interpretation:  I love you Mom - my life no good if you "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wrt&lt;/span&gt;" (weren't) my mom - would "B" Sad! It made me so happy that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;he was&lt;/span&gt; actually thinking of me during the day.  A few seconds later he pulled out the next one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkV0A2Fv5qI/AAAAAAAAA2U/V29EW5WHxik/s1600-h/letter-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351811290068149922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkV0A2Fv5qI/AAAAAAAAA2U/V29EW5WHxik/s320/letter-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Interpretation:  I love you mom - thank you for being my mom - I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sorry&lt;/span&gt; if I have "ban" bad - i will never "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;frgt&lt;/span&gt;" you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't even upset or remember him acting up that morning (trust me there are many mornings that I need a fire truck to put out all the fires in this house) - but loved the drawings of us together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Wes was sitting there admiring my pictures and Tate pulled out the following for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351811308184295954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkV0B5k-WhI/AAAAAAAAA2k/HvjjGWh8T7Q/s320/letter+-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Interpretation: Don't worry Dad, I still love you to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Pretty cute, but I love the tiny little smiley face at the bottom of the page.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Little moments like this are few and far between, so I Cherish them every time they happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-7848074007734491730?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/7848074007734491730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=7848074007734491730&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7848074007734491730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7848074007734491730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/moments.html' title='Moments'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SkV0BT0lruI/AAAAAAAAA2c/kaVOQBAZFzU/s72-c/Letter+-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-7935722568129314461</id><published>2009-06-23T07:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T07:49:48.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fathers Day Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Finally, it was warm enough to take some pictures of the kids for Wes - I printed them on a Metallic paper and they turned out perfect for his Office at work....a great Fathers Day present!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-7935722568129314461?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/7935722568129314461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=7935722568129314461&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7935722568129314461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7935722568129314461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/fathers-day-pictures.html' title='Fathers Day Pictures'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6647981445473582527</id><published>2009-06-23T07:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T07:44:34.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*NTc2MTA1MTkwNiZwdD*xMjQ1NzYxMDY5MzU5JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz1iYTg5ODA*Y2FhMDM*OTg1YTU1ZWIzMjc5OGI*NzViZCZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/ad22f98f.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=ad22f98f.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6647981445473582527?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6647981445473582527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6647981445473582527&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6647981445473582527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6647981445473582527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_8081.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4023199573603328562</id><published>2009-06-20T12:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T13:40:12.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Week</title><content type='html'>It's late Saturday afternoon and my entire family is asleep.  Honestly there are only 3 sounds in the entire house.  1.  The Dryer, which is constant.  2.  The AC, which I finally turned on this week.  (Shocker, June 20 and the AC finally comes on, were actually supposta hit 80 today which would be the year high, but I'm not counting my breath).  3.  Me typing .  It's crazy!!  No TV, Radios, Fighting, fridge bring opened 73 times a day, my name being screamed.....I could soooooo get use to this, but I know better.Our week was pretty normal, )no pictures to post that might cause a divorce), just a regular week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have a tradition to take the boys pictures the first day of school and the last.  So this week was their last day of school so I had to take a picture. (They are also going to a new school next year so I wanted a picture of them in front of the old)  Tye was totally embarrassed...Tate is still to young to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349459261375191746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y2waxGsI/AAAAAAAAA08/3EiMUD1vCjM/s320/June+09+094.jpg" border="0" /&gt; When I was climbing back into the truck, this is what I saw.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349459273530831394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y3ds5ciI/AAAAAAAAA1E/9Yyx6nrf9ps/s320/June+09+098.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Wes shaking his head at me wondering why I do "crap" like that as he calls it and sissy moving her car seat up to the front seat because she wants a "friend" to sit by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So since school is out you can imagine the condition of my house, my nerves, my food storage, my patience, my laundry loads, my everything.....All of you Moms know exactly what I am talking about.  The first couple days it's nice to not be a drill Sargent and not pack lunches and actually get to relax for a few minutes in the morning.  But by 9:36 - you are desperate to find something to keep your kids entertained, out of trouble and not fighting.   I have a suggestion, it's not the cleanest thing in the entire world but it keeps my kids entertained for hours!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A MUD HOLE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349459280911151138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y35MgMCI/AAAAAAAAA1U/KzftUK9pDlQ/s320/June+09+118.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0becOYBXI/AAAAAAAAA1c/Oz3vjw-5iqo/s1600-h/June+09+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349462142172530034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0becOYBXI/AAAAAAAAA1c/Oz3vjw-5iqo/s320/June+09+119.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We are landscaping sections of our back yard so I have a big pile of mud.  The kids spend hours at there digging and making Dams.  It's all fun until I make them use the hose and wash off before they climb into my tub.  Tate HATES washing off with the hose because "it's tooooo cold" he just sits out there and pouts until he finally comes to grips with it.  I had to take this picture because he just sits out there and talks to himself about why he doesn't want to use the hose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349462145314666578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0ben7hOFI/AAAAAAAAA1k/l-_Xw0HGcSI/s320/June+09+122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baseball, Baseball &amp;amp; Baseball&lt;/strong&gt;.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Practically every night of our life consists of some sort of baseball.  I do enjoy watching the boys play.  This week I actually brought my camera along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349459258712353730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y2mf5a8I/AAAAAAAAA00/x5Of4sjIeRY/s320/June+09+084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes is Tate's coach and he plays on the Marlins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y3oEd3EI/AAAAAAAAA1M/ESSzIK2gcMM/s1600-h/June+09+092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349459276314041410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y3oEd3EI/AAAAAAAAA1M/ESSzIK2gcMM/s320/June+09+092.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tate can seriously hit the ball! He is a great hitter, now the outfield .....  he'd rather play with the grass he gets so bored.  But I love his little face in this picture, getting ready to hit the heck out of the ball.  He's hit so many home runs this year I've lost track. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349465840375929202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0e1tGxmXI/AAAAAAAAA2E/W1QqD0zFDzw/s320/June+09+082.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go figure, Tye is the opposite.  He's great in the infield.  He switches back and forth from first to short and does a great job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349462151273090722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0be-IHjqI/AAAAAAAAA1s/Wy6L1lcQyFw/s320/June+09+129.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, he's struggled at hitting. One game he struck out every time and boy that's hard.  It's hard because his confidence, you want your kids to do well and when they are frustrated and discouraged you feel just as bad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally told him this.  Well your hitting hasn't been that consistent, but if you can hit a home run tonight, I'll pay you 5 dollars.  Tate immediately pipes up..."How come you didn't pay me for all my home runs?"  (I'd be broke) I finally said, Ok, if Tye can do it, I'll pay you both 5 dollars. Needless to say I paid out 10 dollars, but it was so worth it to see Tye's face after that hit. I love the face he makes when he's trying not to smile.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349465849232291762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0e2OGS97I/AAAAAAAAA2M/KFexiwSEiUc/s320/June+09+157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me and my week....It was fabulous! I went to Wasau WI for Youth Conference, I love, love, love the youth in our ward.  We stayed in the dorms at University Wisconsin, (which were pretty grim) but it was so fun to see the youth so happy &amp;amp; excited. Here's a snapshot from my door room hanging out with some of the kids in our ward.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349462161339220050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0bfjoEgFI/AAAAAAAAA18/Y8EdBsU-fnE/s320/June+09+161.jpg" border="0" /&gt; And that about sums of the week.  Random facts:  Wes &amp;amp; I love the show Wipeout and the Newlyweds, were totally cheering for the Mormon couple.  My garden is doing great and the pumpkins are out of control.  We went on a super fun date with some couples from the ward, My mom is leaving to go home tomorrow and I'm sad.  I've got a fun present to give to Wes tomorrow for Fathers Day, the boys surprise birthday party is planned and I can't wait to see their faces.  Tye is having double surgery in 2 weeks and I'm having surgery in August.  The sun is actually shinning today, which is rare, and finally were heading to the movies and out to dinner tonight - but I'm letting my family sleep as long as they can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4023199573603328562?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4023199573603328562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4023199573603328562&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4023199573603328562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4023199573603328562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/week.html' title='The Week'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sj0Y2waxGsI/AAAAAAAAA08/3EiMUD1vCjM/s72-c/June+09+094.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6043808839975621175</id><published>2009-06-14T17:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T19:45:30.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Normal????</title><content type='html'>I have come to realize that we seriously have to be abnormal.  If you question me, you will agree by the time you get done looking at the next sequence of pictures taken from the last week of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ghost in the Dark:  A game our kids beg to play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every night&lt;/span&gt;.  One person goes and hides and the rest of the family searches, and then hides together until everyone has found each other. We've lived here long enough to developed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;practically&lt;/span&gt; every hiding spot in the house.  This week I was being pretty clever and was hiding in one of the showers.  Tate found me first and we were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hudling&lt;/span&gt; on the shower floor.  Tye finds us next, but because there was no room he stood standing.  We were fine until Tye let the biggest Fart directly in my face......seriously BAD BAD BAD hiding spot.  I didn't even wait for the rest of the family to find me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However Wes stepped the game up a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;notch&lt;/span&gt; when he started hiding Sissy.  Because she is so small he hides her in spots &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;unimaginable&lt;/span&gt;.....the spot for this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;particular&lt;/span&gt; night....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWLW5zc9FI/AAAAAAAAA0s/TdEssFHCGGo/s1600-h/June+09+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347333358162342994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWLW5zc9FI/AAAAAAAAA0s/TdEssFHCGGo/s320/June+09+078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next picture: The bad things about horses is that they poop....a lot, and Saturday morning I was shoveling it up, cleaning the corral and stalls when a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; idea came.    ---    I have access to a lot of help and a lot of big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;machinery&lt;/span&gt;.  Needless to say, my pile was taken care of in about 15 minutes.  I'm a genius once in a while - but this is not normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWLWa8ag1I/AAAAAAAAA0c/g-aq-kdPfjE/s1600-h/June+09+109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347333349878432594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWLWa8ag1I/AAAAAAAAA0c/g-aq-kdPfjE/s320/June+09+109.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That is seriously a lot of crap! (Nicole if you need anymore crap to put in your garden or yard, I have tons!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Picture&lt;/span&gt;:  All day long on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; Tye kept asking me for tape.  I kept saying I'm busy, look in my scrapbook room.  After a while he finally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;emerged&lt;/span&gt; from the trees.    -----   He used my tape to cut branches off the tree and taped them all over himself.  Yes, you read that correctly, he seriously cut up a branch of a tree and taped it to himself to use as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;"camo"&lt;/span&gt; to spy on us.  We are not normal - creative, clever, but seriously not normal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI7NkSDHI/AAAAAAAAA0M/N4f4DGKLLaU/s1600-h/June+09+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347330683407830130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI7NkSDHI/AAAAAAAAA0M/N4f4DGKLLaU/s320/June+09+107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The planting of the Garden:  So it's June, mid June, normal people who know what they are doing had their gardens planted weeks ago.  Then we have the Davis family, approx. 4 weeks late and on a whim decide today I'm going to plant a garden. A trip to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;nursery&lt;/span&gt; and the help of Hector &amp;amp; Jesus - my favorite workers, we got the job done. The kids helped for about 5 minutes. - that is pretty normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI6pUbDVI/AAAAAAAAA0E/stDkigBo6cw/s1600-h/June+09+104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347330673677634898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI6pUbDVI/AAAAAAAAA0E/stDkigBo6cw/s320/June+09+104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom and I kept making trips on the Golf Cart running back in forth to get supplies &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Gatorade&lt;/span&gt;.  (It actually reached above 70 and we were sweating) My mom yelled at me for going to fast down the driveway in the golf cart. (some things never change)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347330687033061074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI7bEmrtI/AAAAAAAAA0U/-9vgR7vbS8M/s320/June+09+110.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;mid afternoon&lt;/span&gt; everything was planted; carrots, corn, tomatoes, onions, beets, pumpkins, 3 types of lettuce, cabbage, green peppers, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;cilantro&lt;/span&gt;, jalapenos, watermelon, squash, cucumbers, honeydew.  Wes was helping hector put the fence up because we have so many wild animals that will come and eat it that we have to try and protect it.  Moles, racoons, skunks.......anyone up for a visit?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347333353472860530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWLWoVZIXI/AAAAAAAAA0k/OzTx7MQQdxg/s320/June+09+114.jpg" border="0" /&gt;What I don't have a picture of is today after church we were eating lunch on the patio when Wes decided to let his horses out to graze.  We ran out of fencing and sure enough the one horse, goes right in the middle of the garden and starts rolling around like crazy.  My kids eyes were huge, and they were all starring at me waiting for me to scream.  I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI6er-gDI/AAAAAAAAAz8/SXN6-tYsmG8/s1600-h/June+09+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347330670823637042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI6er-gDI/AAAAAAAAAz8/SXN6-tYsmG8/s320/June+09+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Picture above:  Normal people put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; cups in the sink when there done, not Davis kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture below: Normal people don't eat food after they have  brushed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; teeth for bed.  Not Davis Kids.  The ENTIRE package of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;marsh mellows&lt;/span&gt; In one session, right before they went to bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWI6KZcOVI/AAAAAAAAAz0/98ZoIInrBFE/s1600-h/June+09+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347327295536579698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWF2Aw1RHI/AAAAAAAAAzU/akoxxyt3qDo/s320/June+09+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following picture I'm not sure what is worse.  Taylor absolutley refuses to take a bath by herself so we rotate taking baths with her and washing her hair.  Usually it's me 98% of the time but Wes actually was doing me a favor. Tate taking a dump and watching the whole thing....is not normal.  (This picture might cause a divorce, so if you don't hear from me, let's hope I get to keep my cars - he can have the horses!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWF3Amg0QI/AAAAAAAAAzs/4rk359vhmFM/s1600-h/June+09+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347327312673165570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWF3Amg0QI/AAAAAAAAAzs/4rk359vhmFM/s320/June+09+074.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally last but not least....I'm an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;officially&lt;/span&gt; trained on the super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;dooper&lt;/span&gt; John Deere Lawn mowing MACHINE  - yep that's right, that is me mowing my front yard.  It's hard to tell by the picture but that machine has three &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;hydraulic&lt;/span&gt; mowers that expands more than 10 feet - and yes that's me in drivers seat.  There is seriously nothing about my life that is normal any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWF10QC9pI/AAAAAAAAAzM/oNHFV-Sg0Qo/s1600-h/June+09+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347327292177839762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWF10QC9pI/AAAAAAAAAzM/oNHFV-Sg0Qo/s320/June+09+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6043808839975621175?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6043808839975621175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6043808839975621175&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6043808839975621175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6043808839975621175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/normal.html' title='Normal????'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SjWLW5zc9FI/AAAAAAAAA0s/TdEssFHCGGo/s72-c/June+09+078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-678581672909942878</id><published>2009-06-12T10:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T11:01:46.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eleven</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well today's our 11th Wedding Anniversary.  I've spent all morning long working on the slideshow below - as I started tearing through all those old scrapbooks I couldn't believe the amount of memories we've had.  One of the best traditions that Wes &amp;amp; I started was keeping a journal of our anniversaries.  We go back through the entire year, write the good, the bad, the heartaches, the changes, the bad decisions, the good decisions made, the goals for the next year, the new friends we've made, the vacations we've taken, a summary of the holidays, what are kids are doing and our favorite memories of the past year.  (Trust me we take turns writing and it usually takes a few hours......so worth it!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's impossible to sum up 11 years, but I can give you a glance.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3 Kids, 17 animals (along the way -luckily we are currently at 5), 7 moves, 4 states, 5 career changes, 8 wards, 100 fights with 100 make-ups (thank goodness) too much laughter to count and so much love I can't even put into words. So to my sweet husband, you have often asked me, "Would you do it all over again?" ........... and the answer of course would be, Yes, Yes &amp;amp; Yes!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;11 Reasons why........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. After 11 years, your still pretty hot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2.  Your worth a lot more money now.  (J/K - and you drive a heck of a lot nicer car, that old car that only had 3 gears and no reverse - you've come a long way!) But seriously, I admire how successful you've become, and how your integrity guides every decision you make.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3.  You seriously make me laugh everyday.  Your sense on humor is totally turning out more and more like your Dads, red-neck/Wyoming kind of charm, but it still works on me.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4.  Your tender towards my feelings (98% of the time) and even though I drive you crazy 2% of the time, I know you still love me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5.  You always tell people that we would get along perfectly if I would just do what you say. The reality is, you married the wrong girl for that, but you wouldn't want it any other way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6.  Your true and I love that you love the simple things of life.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7.   You are a great dad, and I mean that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8.  I love that you take care of the little things for me and always help me when I ask.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9.  Your willingness to serve the Lord.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10.  Your compassion, tenderness, friendship and smile.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;11. I love the way you look at me...Sometimes it's a look of warning (like, don't push my buttons), sometimes it's a silly look to make me laugh.  But my favorite look is when you look at me and I completely know that you love me.  You don't say anything at all -but its a look that I can feel.  No one in the world makes me happier than you.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love you Wes! - (PS, I told you me present was Free!!!!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-678581672909942878?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/678581672909942878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=678581672909942878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/678581672909942878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/678581672909942878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/eleven.html' title='Eleven'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6890648334761243765</id><published>2009-06-12T10:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T10:12:59.228-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*NDgxOTUzODEyNSZwdD*xMjQ*ODE5NTY5NTkzJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz1iYTg5ODA*Y2FhMDM*OTg1YTU1ZWIzMjc5OGI*NzViZCZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/4cf6076d.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=4cf6076d.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6890648334761243765?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6890648334761243765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6890648334761243765&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6890648334761243765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6890648334761243765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post_5328.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-8635715787761889065</id><published>2009-05-31T12:41:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T08:37:27.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Off they go....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;We are so lucky to have an adventure park in our back yard. This adventure park does not consist of rides, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;concession&lt;/span&gt; stands and funky people with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tattoos&lt;/span&gt; that trying to get you spend 35 dollars on some ugly stuffed animal. This adventure land consists of 80 wooded acres filled with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;racoon's&lt;/span&gt;, turkeys, moles, white tail deer, old cars, tree stands, streams, and hopefully a fort (that should be finished in the next few days.) Luckily a few times a week after work Wes will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;saddle up&lt;/span&gt; with the boys and "go to the woods". The boys love it!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342048014324522434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEXZrk3cI/AAAAAAAAAyM/7xCN2IYj-n0/s320/June+09+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Leaving the back yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342048018818450034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEXqbAwnI/AAAAAAAAAyU/i05JQM8pDew/s320/June+09+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is the first couple times they would leave Taylor would just watch them out the window, I won't let her go alone with the boys and I don't trust &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wes's&lt;/span&gt; mare yet. She was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; mad at me, told me I was mean, and that I loved Tate more, because he got to ride Missy. (Please tell me I'm not the only Mom that hears these things.....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342132148562542290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiMQ4qJDvtI/AAAAAAAAAy0/27oF385mEEc/s320/June+09+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few different sob stories, I finally said. Well if you stay home with Mom, you get to make cookies............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's amazing how fast kids can stop crying, and how fast they forget their mad at you and how fast your suddenly liked again. To bad chocolate chip cookies couldn't mend more relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEYoTdSUI/AAAAAAAAAys/7ee2b1viDk4/s1600-h/June+09+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342048035429763394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEYoTdSUI/AAAAAAAAAys/7ee2b1viDk4/s320/June+09+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Taylor after making the cookies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEYEDt03I/AAAAAAAAAyc/YXwoqzyvEao/s1600-h/June+09+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342048025700062066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEYEDt03I/AAAAAAAAAyc/YXwoqzyvEao/s320/June+09+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Luckily now, we've made so many trips to the woods that Miss Taylor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;included&lt;/span&gt; in the rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342132153362679794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiMQ48BgB_I/AAAAAAAAAy8/-Ng0ru5zneg/s320/June+09+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;As for me, I'm in love, in Love with my new computer speakers!!!! They rock our house!!! I am so spoiled because both my cars have fabulous Bose sound systems, and every once in a while I spurge, and this week I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; resist any longer...the Bose computer sound system.....did I mention I'm in Love!!!!! I'm not sure I'm loving the whole idea that Tye has his new personal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;playlist&lt;/span&gt; with songs I'm not sure I agree with, but this little system rocks our house!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344200879893044114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 145px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SipqYq5a25I/AAAAAAAAAzE/mlawRaThXOc/s320/June+09+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;There giving Wes a run for his money! (J/K) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS....these songs that are playing (My sons's playlist....nice huh?) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you Aunt Karry for "To legit, to legit to quit"...I can't wait till you have kids!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-8635715787761889065?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/8635715787761889065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=8635715787761889065&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8635715787761889065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/8635715787761889065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/off-they-go.html' title='Off they go....'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SiLEXZrk3cI/AAAAAAAAAyM/7xCN2IYj-n0/s72-c/June+09+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3605723088841283245</id><published>2009-05-27T20:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T21:02:06.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Closure</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well today was the day, my visit to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OBGYN&lt;/span&gt; doctor to find out if it would be possible to have anymore children.  For months I have been seriously contemplating having more children. As many of you know I haven't had easy pregnancies, deliveries or any real luck raising them (yet).  But even with the whole turmoil with Taylor I always had a glimpse of hope that my body would let me have one more.  Today that ended.  There's no hope.  Heavenly Father let me have the answer, and even though it wasn't the answer I wanted, I'm thankful that he loves me enough to bring some closure to the subject.  It doesn't mean it makes it any easier.  I barely made it to the car before the tears came.  I sat there in the rain thinking I should be grateful for the three I have, then feeling guilty, then thinking I can barely handle 3, why do I want more, in the next thought thinking I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LDS&lt;/span&gt;, I was born to have babies (has anyone seen the size of my hips) .....I swear the mix of emotions I can have in a 5 minute period would shock a nation.  Rain seemed fitting for the day and I didn't even care that I had just washed my car.  I finally drove myself to the closest salon I knew of and splurged on some super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dooper&lt;/span&gt; pedicure.  The Chinese guy kept asking...you want salt scrub 5 dollar....you want more massage....5 dollar....I just kept saying "why not" and in my mind kept thinking, I can't have kids so I guess I can have pretty toes! Luckily I had lunch with a sweet friend and have been to busy the rest of the afternoon to think about it. Wes has been kind, offered his sister's body (don't worry Nikki I told him it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;), and that's it, it's over.  Closure.....however, I am still hopeful that someday, somehow if I am to be a Mom to more precious children, they'll find me.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3605723088841283245?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3605723088841283245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3605723088841283245&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3605723088841283245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3605723088841283245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/closure.html' title='Closure'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-7733444086599559246</id><published>2009-05-24T17:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T18:02:11.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In our own Backyard</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; Well this was the first Memorial Day weekend that we were not in Wyoming branding Grandpa's cows...instead Wes came up with the idea to have a little camp out in our own backyard.  I sat down with the kids on Saturday morning and gave them a list of chores they had to get done before I would tell them what the "surprise" was.  After a LONG morning, I finally broke down and told them what Dad had planned.  Tye was super excited, Taylor had no clue what a tent was and Tate was mad that it wasn't money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339516515062313842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnF-wCe83I/AAAAAAAAAxM/J-7T89Z-HQY/s320/may+09+228.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It has been years since Wes &amp;amp; I have put up a tent.  I actually bought this tent last year and it took a few minutes to figure it out.  Wes started reading the directions and I got inpatient.  (I do have my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;YW&lt;/span&gt; camp certificate - plus two year Jr. Staff behind my belt.)  Needless to say I started connecting the color coordinating poles and......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnJd25aSYI/AAAAAAAAAx8/9ceQuFsntPg/s1600-h/may+09+239.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339516523844960290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnF_QwbgCI/AAAAAAAAAxU/lOLEnosx14E/s320/may+09+230.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The whole time Taylor had no clue what we were doing, when it was finally all done she couldn't believe how "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bootiful&lt;/span&gt; it was"  I told her this was her castle and Dad was the knight going to protect her.  She ran in the house, got a princess dress, went in the tent and stepped outside giggling.  She thought she was so fabulous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339516536028933314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnF_-JULMI/AAAAAAAAAxk/hsE77rNnij0/s320/may+09+234.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Tye grabbed the lawn chairs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339516530816784626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnF_qupGPI/AAAAAAAAAxc/Y8UCVjhh8hU/s320/may+09+233.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Tate came strolling out of the house with drinks for everyone....can't forget Dad's coke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnGADaP3jI/AAAAAAAAAxs/o0E488XLWLk/s1600-h/may+09+235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339516537442131506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnGADaP3jI/AAAAAAAAAxs/o0E488XLWLk/s320/may+09+235.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rounded up some fire wood to start a fire for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339520343610941282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnJdmfm32I/AAAAAAAAAx0/HDhq4hNtwQM/s320/may+09+237.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I went all out with Hot Dogs and ketchup!  Our kids loved cooking them so much that I thought our dog was going to explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339520351688866370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnJeEliOkI/AAAAAAAAAyE/mNR4V1G_fG0/s320/may+09+240.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We did finish the night off with right with some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;smores&lt;/span&gt;, but not ONE of my kids liked them, Tye didn't like the chocolate, Tate didn't like the marsh mellows and Taylor took one little lick and started with the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;agggg&lt;/span&gt;, this is nasty" needless to say the dog came in handy again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We sat around the fire for hours telling the kids about our camping trips when we were first married, and then once the stars came out we called it a night.  (So we thought)  A fabulous night turned into a disaster!  Every hour someone was awake, Taylor had to go the bathroom, then I was freezing, the wind started blowing, Tate had to go to the bathroom, and I was still freezing, I kept tossing and turning, stealing the covers from Wes, he kept rolling around and by 3:30 I couldn't take it any longer....it was the most uncomfortable thing.  I asked Wes earlier in the night if I could bring the memory foam off our bed and he made fun of me.  Instead I think I slept on the biggest dandelion in the universe.  Wes lasted until 5 - when the tractors started and the next day we both had to overdose on Tylenol to help with the pain in our back and shoulders.  We barely made it to church, and when we came home the wind had broken some poles to the tent but all I could care about was a nap.  The entire family went down for a nap, with Tye holding the record for 5 1/2 hours.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That night we headed over to our friends house and a fun night having another campfire.  (Although this time we did upgrade to tin foil dinners and strawberry shakes instead of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;smores&lt;/span&gt;.) Monday we had all the friends over and ended the weekend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;riding&lt;/span&gt; horses with some other families and a great steak and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;kabob&lt;/span&gt; dinner.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't say I'll be pitching any tents anytime soon...but we have been laughing about it since.  Sometimes it's fun just to be home and spend some time in our own backyard.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-7733444086599559246?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/7733444086599559246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=7733444086599559246&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7733444086599559246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/7733444086599559246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/in-our-own-backyard.html' title='In our own Backyard'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/ShnF-wCe83I/AAAAAAAAAxM/J-7T89Z-HQY/s72-c/may+09+228.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-674018193143588779</id><published>2009-05-21T06:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T06:22:07.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sooo happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="VISIBILITY: hidden; WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*MjkwNDM2ODc1MCZwdD*xMjQyOTA*NDE3MDkzJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz1iYTg5ODA*Y2FhMDM*OTg1YTU1ZWIzMjc5OGI*NzViZCZvZj*w.gif" width="0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/kris" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i599.photobucket.com/albums/tt74/heytheredelilah1234/000hbp4d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK...so I've never voted on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;American&lt;/span&gt; Idol, or any other reality show until.......Kris Allen.  (In all reality I've never watched American Idol religiously until I moved to Wisconsin.....needless to say A little lack of entertainment choices around here.) - and when he performed with Keith Urban last night my mouth hit the floor - I'm a huge Keith Urban Fan.  So, even though my husband thinks I'm a total loser for actually voting - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; happy he won.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-674018193143588779?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/674018193143588779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=674018193143588779&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/674018193143588779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/674018193143588779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_21.html' title='sooo happy'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4192713570210863552</id><published>2009-05-20T13:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T14:07:01.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicago</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;OK...I honestly have to say I loved Chicago. It is such a fun place to visit.  The first few days Taylor, Tate &amp;amp; I hung out with my sister in the city.  (I left Wes at home because he would have gone crazy at how many people honk their horns - and for how much money I spent parking the car, but I'm making him take me back).  We did lots of fun things in the city, don't get me wrong,  I love my country life (and the 20 acres that provide my kids tons of entertainment) but the action in the city is quite fun.  Instead of going into great detail I made some slide shows of the trip (below).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After the city we headed out to Arlington Heights Racetrack for some horse racing.  Wes &amp;amp; Tye came down and we spent a fun day at the races.  The track was very nice and our kids, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; Tate, Loves, Loves, Loves horse races.  I think I have the only kids in the world that act like they are riding horses everywhere.   Another trip to Chicago is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; in the forecast!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4192713570210863552?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4192713570210863552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4192713570210863552&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4192713570210863552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4192713570210863552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/chicago_20.html' title='Chicago'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2116870911437505961</id><published>2009-05-20T13:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T13:49:35.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*Mjg*NTM1MzI4MSZwdD*xMjQyODQ1MzY3OTUzJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz1iYTg5ODA*Y2FhMDM*OTg1YTU1ZWIzMjc5OGI*NzViZCZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/81b56486.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=81b56486.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2116870911437505961?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2116870911437505961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2116870911437505961&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2116870911437505961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2116870911437505961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_7937.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-4955664818454972412</id><published>2009-05-20T09:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T09:39:22.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.11NXC/bHQ9MTI*MjgzMDMzNjU2MiZwdD*xMjQyODMwMzUyNTE1JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mb2Y9MA==.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/c28edafa.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=c28edafa.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-4955664818454972412?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/4955664818454972412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=4955664818454972412&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4955664818454972412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/4955664818454972412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_5670.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1792256828558822535</id><published>2009-05-12T06:51:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T08:21:44.547-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Surprise</title><content type='html'>I have had many Mothers Days that tears will spilled.  For different reasons of course.  One year my kids were terrible, another I thought I was a horrible mother, one year expected too much, one year I was so homesick for my own Mom, another Sad I didn't treat my mother better, the list goes on. Needless to say I've never been a big fan of Mothers Day.    Although I tried not to pay any attention to it, it's almost impossible when every other commercial on the TV is Pro Flowers advertising their mother day specials. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I thought about what I really wanted for Mothers Day I realized that everything I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; want, only I can do.  The things I want most might sound crazy to some, but it's simple things. Having a peaceful home ( so learning to not yell) , spending more time doing a few things for me, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;scrapbooking&lt;/span&gt;, planting a garden, taking pictures and listening to music while I clean) cooking what I like to cook (not what my kids will eat),   teaching my children to not be so selfish and treat me with respect.  These are not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;necessarily&lt;/span&gt; "Mothers Day Gifts", but it's what I want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started.  On Saturday we didn't have to many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;activities&lt;/span&gt;, (which is rare) so I spent the entire morning cleaning my house (to music).  Second I decided that it was time to tackle the front walk way.  (We have a really long walkway that leads to the front door.  Since we've lived here it's been frozen, or full of weeds.) I planned out how I wanted to plant it and spend the afternoon pulling weeds.  Afterwards I decided to take my kids to lunch and talk to them about the changes that mom was going to be making and how I needed them to help me make those changes.  Afterwards we went to about 3 stores for me to look at plants.  Afterwards I came home, evaluated my planting space and went back and got everything I needed for planting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home the kids started saying funny things to me like "Mom you stink, maybe you should take a shower", "Hey mom, what ever you do, don't go in my closet", "Mom maybe you should go snuggle on your bed"....well It was so fun seeing their excitement that I didn't do anything.   Pretty soon they were so anxious that Sissy said "Go take a shower, but don't step on your present...."    The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt; was that every little hint had a bouquet of flowers....by the time I was finished I had 6 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt; bouquets! Seriously I was so shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334906940229014354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgllmLod01I/AAAAAAAAAwk/X7I17I8r6S4/s320/may+09+087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids were so exited to give me their different flowers, and once I smelled Taylor's and saw how "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;bootiful&lt;/span&gt;" there were, she told me that since they were pink they had to go in her room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgllmTBmi7I/AAAAAAAAAws/rYCr-llT7bY/s1600-h/may+09+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334906942213491634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgllmTBmi7I/AAAAAAAAAws/rYCr-llT7bY/s320/may+09+091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my shear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt; I received 3 more bouquets of flowers by the day was over by other sweet friends......I'm so blessed! I don't even think I'll get this many flowers when I die....seriously so blessed! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334908443002717986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sglm9p5oxyI/AAAAAAAAAxE/StOuMnGlBHo/s320/may+09+097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So....here it is some of my mothers day's best moments.  Having a home full of fresh flowers, but even more watching my children so excited to give them to me. Listening to my children sing "Mother I love you" in sacrament meeting, taking a walk all by myself, planting my walk way, Talking to my own mother for the first time this week where she actually sounded happy (she's in really rough condition), talking to many old friends, going to the relief society luncheon, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt; idea for anyone in RS - instead of a lesson they had a light luncheon and social during Mothers Day and had the men do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Primary&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;YW&lt;/span&gt;, it's was such a nice break).  But the best part of the day came at night when I had all three kids in bed with me and realized they make me so happy.  My children are everything to me and I'm so lucky to be a Mom. Don't get me wrong, I think that everyday - but there are days that I love them more when they are asleep.  (And all you Mothers know exactly what I mean) But what sweet day for me, to be reminded how much happiness and joy actually comes from being a Mother and for one of the first times in my life....LOVE Mothers Day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1792256828558822535?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1792256828558822535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1792256828558822535&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1792256828558822535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1792256828558822535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-surprise.html' title='What a Surprise'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgllmLod01I/AAAAAAAAAwk/X7I17I8r6S4/s72-c/may+09+087.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-2565261292033362829</id><published>2009-05-04T14:41:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T06:08:27.515-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Difference</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can't tell me that "weather" does not make a difference. I have had two completely opposite weeks....all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; of the sudden change in weather. The first week of the two weeks goes something like this.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Rain in the morning&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Rain in the Afternoon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Rain in the evening&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I even caught myself singing the song, Rain, Rain go away come again another day, and people who know me, know I DO not sing! So a short recap on the "Rain" week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Sleep, eat, watch the rain, eat more junk, take another nap, watch TV, wonder when it's going to stop raining, eat...etc.... You get the idea, and it was kind of convenient due to my nice hip accident, nevertheless, no pictures, but a lazy nice relaxing week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Well out of the blue nice weather appeared. I can't tell you the difference sunshine made. I invited 3 families over for a BBQ, the kids have had friends over constantly, Wes has been able to ride his horses, coaching baseball has actually been a lot of fun, Wes &amp;amp; I went on a fabulous date, I started walking, cleaned out the garage, organized my pantry, went to a benefit luncheon, painted my nails, started planting my front walkway with flowers,.....and looks what's starting to pop up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333626771809866002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTZSko9kRI/AAAAAAAAAuk/IDhaZ0GmjY4/s320/may+09+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally Spring. I also found a great little place to visit. It's this little village back in the early 1900's. A few times a year they hold their annual "Sheep Shearing Day", and as you guessed I couldn't resist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Tate Milking The Goat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333626778527309714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTZS9qhn5I/AAAAAAAAAus/Dp0KdhMSeKw/s320/may+09+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;We loved watching them plow the fields with the horses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333626784103109394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTZTSb5kxI/AAAAAAAAAu8/P1XjZbE3Guk/s320/may+09+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor stopping and posing for a picture (of course)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333632196406552178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTeOU1mJnI/AAAAAAAAAwU/HrCe1RZMLOI/s320/may+09+066.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Wes helped in shearing the sheep&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333626790829086770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTZTrff2DI/AAAAAAAAAvE/JrnJPSW77o0/s320/may+09+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333629725833423042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTb-hPD6MI/AAAAAAAAAvM/GulvPqWAuGw/s320/may+09+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It was actually really neat learning how they died the wool. They would use spices to dye it different colors, and then spend all day cooking it. Crazy, how far we've come in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333629732322427218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTb-5aKQVI/AAAAAAAAAvU/cJKyOpM7klQ/s320/may+09+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Taking a wagon ride...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333629735019240146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTb_DdIWtI/AAAAAAAAAvc/d06s1ZqmPVM/s320/may+09+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Wes loved watching the wood carvers, he came home and started to build bridle racks for the barn, so I think it got him in the mood. He hasn't built anything since we left Idaho. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333632194322734018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTeONExm8I/AAAAAAAAAwE/qV3TrDS3J6w/s320/may+09+045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tye trying to walk on stilts.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333629749304919042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTb_4rGhAI/AAAAAAAAAvs/P3yG-iTFOKk/s320/may+09+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333632191759121906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTeODhj_fI/AAAAAAAAAwM/Gc8gg3oGtdM/s320/may+09+048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took turns jumping rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333632178261497154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTeNRPelUI/AAAAAAAAAv0/DuaupHogRdk/s320/may+09+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until this kept happening&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333632184500365650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTeNoe8KVI/AAAAAAAAAv8/2NIQ4P4nQcg/s320/may+09+040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funnest was playing this hoop game, we spent hours playing it. My kids kept begging to stay longer and play this game......who would have thought two sticks with a hoop could be so fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333629745292856818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTb_pujTfI/AAAAAAAAAvk/fR00cu-UkFE/s320/may+09+036.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333640432780601074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTltvuMZvI/AAAAAAAAAwc/jCiAD3x45bY/s320/may+09+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such a great day of simple fun....and Sunshine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-2565261292033362829?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/2565261292033362829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=2565261292033362829&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2565261292033362829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/2565261292033362829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/05/difference.html' title='The Difference'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SgTZSko9kRI/AAAAAAAAAuk/IDhaZ0GmjY4/s72-c/may+09+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3601267564264552358</id><published>2009-04-24T07:57:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T11:56:03.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let the Good Times Roll....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This week has been one of those weeks that every second is scheduled, it's Friday morning and I'm exhausted, and in a terrible mood. I was trying to get the boys out the door for school and Wes yelled, "If you don't get in the car your going to stay home with your mom all day and work," I immediately yelled back....No They are Not!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here a little about our week......However this is just going to be bits and pieces because I'm not thinking of any cute or clever ways to do this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tye:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328260583597840658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHIxTwQmRI/AAAAAAAAAtE/2eG7cx-V09U/s320/TYE1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The normal for him, Scouts, baseball, getting his report card in which his teacher stated that he needs to work on being "less sarcastic" (Good luck, we all know who his Dad is) We also got him a new saddle in Madison last week so he's been riding a lot, and honestly is our best child when it comes to taking care of their horse. Wes took him golfing yesterday and so now that's all he wants to do. His registration for Pop Warner is tomorrow and he thinks he's pretty hot stuff. If anyone could give me some advice on teaching him how to not tease his brother, I'll willing to fork over some serious cash. He's gone through every pair of pants I bought last month (Holes in the knees) and this week I had to buy more pants, 12 Huskey's and new shoes, Men's size 6.....It's ridiculous, and men's shoes are so much more expensive than kids, it stinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tate:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328642017559816962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfMjrr_fqwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/WFfCKSWhJtA/s320/Tate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't let this picture fool you, Tate is sweet. But holy cow this kid is a scrapper. His new love is Hockey. He's been going to the games with one of his friends Dad who has a box at the Gamblers games. (The hockey team here) I hadn't been to a hockey game in years so we decided to go, we had great seats, and it was a lot of fun. Tate loves that they fight. All he wants to do is play hockey, so we move the cars out of the garage and they set up their goals and play for hours. This picture was taken when my parents were here visiting and my kids kept begging my Dad to play with them for hours.....good thing I have a great Dad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328260591833091874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHIxybsjyI/AAAAAAAAAtU/NG_VpMDw21I/s320/March+2009+138.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few pictures from the Hockey game...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328288615794589474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHiQ_0xvyI/AAAAAAAAAtc/jpqOj8HpSnU/s320/DSC00477.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328319815534763682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfH-pD6f3qI/AAAAAAAAAuE/b2H1Pxbu7aw/s320/DSC00483.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328288618318457986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHiRJOg7II/AAAAAAAAAtk/MVBeCLul_Ro/s320/DSC00466.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328288623537033426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHiRcquENI/AAAAAAAAAts/Ch52Mgt8JFo/s320/DSC00479.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: Taylor took those pictures, she's getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tate is tough, and I don't doubt he'd be a great hockey player, but hopefully with Baseball starting he'll get his mind off hockey. He's already knocked Tye's two front teeth out, I can't afford to pay for many more. The other day the boys were rolling around in the front yard and I went out yelling telling them to quit fighting, the both stopped, looked at me like I was crazy and said....Uh, We're playing hockey....then went back to rolling all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Taylor:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328642019360279906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfMjryswjWI/AAAAAAAAAuU/QRjIA7EP1qQ/s320/taylor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;She's addicted to the Saddle Club and sets up horse jumps all around the house practicing riding. She wasn't paying attention to where she was going and ran into the wall, It bruised her up pretty bad but that's all we've heard about. She even called Wes a few minutes ago to tell him that her scratch is falling off so better "hurry home" .....so dramatic. She also started swim lessons this week and a cooking class. They cooked Hot Dogs last night, so maybe I just got ripped off.....hot dogs at a cooking class, even I can pull a hot dog off! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor with her riding helmet, jumping with her horse....(I think she might be a hurdler)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328260590089657666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHIxr8B3UI/AAAAAAAAAtM/o8HMProKaeE/s320/March+2009+133.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me: (No Picture, sorry Audra)&lt;br /&gt;Today is going to be in the 60's so I've already bought a bunch of pansies to plant, but I need to spend the day weeding my flower gardens first. We also rented a tiller tomorrow to get our garden ready. It's been years since I planted a garden, (Mindy Tobler I wish you still lived next door) But we're going to give in a shot. My new love is Lemon Burst Bread from Great Harvest, seriously it's fabulous. I went to the grocery store late last night, bought tons of food because I've decided I need to start cooking more(Which the groceries are still laying on my kitchen floor because I was too tired to put them away). Invited a family over for dinner on Sunday. Volunteered to clean a walking path in the morning for a community project, enjoying my clean house until the weekend hits. Organized my calendar for the next few months and realized I have something planned almost every night for the next three months and got mad at myself for signing up for so much. Started thinking about how I should start exercising, and when to use my gift certificate for a back massage that Wes got me for my birthday. My Lexus broke down, which makes me irritated, and that I still need to get out the Thank you notes from Taylor's birthday party in Feb......the list could go on and on!!!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328288623722625954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHiRdW9-6I/AAAAAAAAAt0/a6g7eBqMoWI/s320/June+2008+053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is one thing. If you live by a Sportsman's Warehouse, and it's closing, you better be ready to throw down some bills. That store See's my husband coming and they smile. 6 Guns, 2 bows, new sun glasses, a spotting scope, a knife set and a few other items have made their way to our home. Can you tell he drew out on a Bull Elk license in Wyoming, he's loving life. Usually Wes doesn't spend a dime, he's very frugal, so I don't mind when he does go a little crazy, in fact I helped him a little!!!! But it's seriously few and far between when Wes actually spends money, and he got some awesome deals. He'll be ready for his big hunting trip in the Fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that about sums it up, a busy weekend ahead and I've decided it's a great time to relax for a few hours catch up on all my DVR'd shows. Hope everyone has a great weekend! &lt;/p&gt;4/25/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A little update, as I was waiting for my pictures to upload yesterday I went out to put the horses in and got kicked in the hip by Wes's mare, Ginger...I have been in so much pain, laying in bed with ice bags and watching 16 episodes of Saddle Club &amp;amp; listening to Taylor sing &amp;amp; eat marshmallows, I can barely move......this is terrible. So much for planting flowers, I've even contemplated changing my playlist to Everyone Hurts by REM, but I'm trying to be a good sport about it....you should see my bruise - ridiculous! I decided to take a picture of this hoof print on my hip causing me so much grief!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328672999598815490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfM_3FFNeQI/AAAAAAAAAuc/sNkmQ8Zi6yk/s320/April+2009+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3601267564264552358?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3601267564264552358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3601267564264552358&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3601267564264552358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3601267564264552358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/04/let-good-times-roll.html' title='Let the Good Times Roll....'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SfHIxTwQmRI/AAAAAAAAAtE/2eG7cx-V09U/s72-c/TYE1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-5897306312579962488</id><published>2009-04-19T15:46:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T21:11:24.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Turning 35!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have to admit, I wasn't really excited, or looking forward to my birthday this year. Usually birthdays are just another day but I just didn't like the sound of 35. I swear I'm still 23 1\2 but every time I look in the mirror I'm constantly reminded that I'm not. I was taking a bath and started reading the label on my shower gel and loved what it said....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Philosophy: How you climb up the mountain is just as important as how you get down the mountain. and so, it is with life, which for many of us becomes one big gigantic test followed by one big gigantic lesson. in the end, it all comes down to one word, grace. It's how you accept winning and losing, good luck and bad luck, the darkness, the light, the good and the bad. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All I can say, is that I've had a lot of both. I'm 35. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I've also made a lot of good decisions. I've won some, I've lost some. I've been hurt, I've hurt others. I've been so happy and at other moments so sad. At times I've wanted to give up, other times I felt I could conquer the world. I've really been all across the board and decided it's called life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do know 35 things......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. The gospel is true, and I'm so blessed to have a true testimony.  It's one of my greatest possessions. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. My family is my true happiness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. On the flip side, being a Wife and Mother is 10,000 times harder than I ever imagined.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. I have come to measure my success is moments, and I am still "Realizing the Moments", and accepting them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. I love to laugh, and since my kids should probably live at the zoo the majority of the time, I laugh often. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. The things I thought I wanted in life are really not the things that make me happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. I don't know when I learned how to yell, but I find myself yelling all the time and wish I could break that habit (maybe it goes back to the fact that my kids belong in the zoo!!!!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. I cry, and sometimes it's the best medicine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. I love having family prayer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. I was so blessed to be raised by my parents, and realize it more and more each day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;11. I need sunshine and warm weather, and miss it desperately.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;12. I love movies that make me want to be better.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;13. I need my sister.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;14. Sometimes I am stronger than I think I am, other times I'm mad at myself for being so weak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;15. Listening to my children fight seriously gives me high blood pressure.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;16. True friends are few and far between.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;17. I hate shaving my legs, I'm a big fan of waxing. (Thank you Karen Haggard!!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;18. "Happily ever after" is a choice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;19. I have to have a clean house, I'm not even sure why, I'm just aggravated when my house is a mess and why I let stupid obsessions like this keep me from things that are really important bug me even more. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;20. Some of my favorite memories are hanging out with my cousins &amp;amp; laughing about our family. I think of my cousins more like sisters than cousins, and you would laugh too if you knew certain members of our family.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;21. You can't have Faith with Fear.  You must choose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;22. Feeling loved is better than you can imagine. Being charitable is underrated.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;22. It's ok to admit when your wrong, and ask for forgiveness. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;23. I think I have the only kids on earth that pretend their horses or pretend their riding their horses. Imagination is a gift.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;24. I express my love with gifts,however I get very uncomfortable receiving them.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;25. I need to cook more and go out to eat less.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;26. I'm better at giving advice than following it....(It's something I would like to change.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;27. I have to be busy, I can't stand to not have anything to do. I also enjoy working, feeling smart once in a while, but often feel guilty doing it.   It's hard to find a balance.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;28. Once I find something I like, I stick with it and rarely change.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;29. I love to drive places my myself. 1. To have have total silence or 2. To rock out....depending on the day 3.  Just to have a moment to dream, I still do that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;30. I hear "Mom" at least 35 times times a day, and wouldn't change it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;31. I like setting the table for dinner, especially when we have friends over or holidays. I like fancy table settings, set with fresh flowers and love entertaining. (minus the clean up)  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;32. My husband is my best friend, and still can't believe he's mine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;33. That sometimes my life stinks, sometimes I have crappy days, sometimes everything goes wrong and that's part of the process.  I have no words of wisdom, sometimes it just sucks! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;34. I've learned that holding on too tightly to the past isn't a good thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;35. Being "35" is really no big deal . I think everyone has things about their life that they wish they could go back and change and do differently. I also think it's fine to admit that. Right now, I am who I am and it's ok, what matters most is that I'm happy. I'm still trying to become the person I want to be, but I think I'll be trying for years, I'm not even sure if I'll ever get there.....I'm sure not giving up at 35......maybe 36!!!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One thing is for sure, it's the smallest things in life that mean the most.  To everyone who sent me Birthday wishes, I love you, I thank you, and it's you who make my life as great as it is.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;PS..... Thank you Mary Jane for giving me this Idea!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-5897306312579962488?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5897306312579962488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=5897306312579962488&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5897306312579962488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5897306312579962488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/04/turning-35.html' title='Turning 35!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3122081290211152142</id><published>2009-04-16T13:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T15:08:12.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I'm sure as ever one else, we had a great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Easter (see the slideshow below)&lt;/span&gt;. We started the day by finding this Awesome &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; Egg hunt. We live 20 minutes in the country surrounded by little "townships" (meaning each town population is under 300.....I know, nice) Anyway, in the middle is a really great park. I wasn't sure what to expect, but holy cow it was honestly the best &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; egg hunt we've ever been to! The best part is that they had all these eggs filled with tickets for prizes and money - we seriously made out like bandits!!! All the kids got a toy, Taylor won the grand prize for her age division, Tate collected the most money and at the end every child got another sack filled with candy, nice candy, expensive candy like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lindt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; truffles &amp;amp; candy bars, it was crazy, fabulous and you can bet I'm going back next year. (Well if we live in Wisconsin - who knows!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We came back ate a late breakfast, and invited some friends over for another round of hunting eggs. My kids never get tired of looking for eggs. Next we decorated Sugar Cookies and late afternoon, we let "The coloring begin" for some crazy reason, our family totally gets into the dying of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; eggs. (8 Dozen this year) We ordered pizza and colored eggs for hours, I found some really neat kits and we made some great eggs. Afterwards we made some homemade ice cream and finished the night by watching Marley &amp;amp; Me. But it was just fun day, so happy to celebrate with friends and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; having my family here. Holidays aren't the same if you don't celebrate with people you love! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I started a new tradition, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sorry, had a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;interruption&lt;/span&gt;. I had to teach Tye's friend how to do a flip on the trampoline, I'm probably going to be in pain for a few days recovering, but I can still flip at 34 (for a few more days!) I won't mention that I'm totally out of breath and when I played crack the egg for a few minutes afterwards Tye told his friends to jump harder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; his mom is a little "chunky"...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O.K. so the new tradition is that the Easter Bunny does not bring presents. However Mom &amp;amp; Dad have a special present for you, but the Easter Bunny hides it and you have to search the house till you find your present. It actually worked really well. In the years past I've bought so much junk and crap that my kids have it for a few days and then within a few weeks I'm throwing everything away. No more wasting money on junk. We bought them each a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; outfit (That the boys were totally mad about) and one nice present each. Tye got a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;DS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, Tate a cross bow and Taylor a new riding helmet. It was perfect, Mom even got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;spoiled&lt;/span&gt; by getting 2 bouquets of flowers - nice job Wes, (I'll quit teasing the UPS Man - it's a great story for another day), well it's quick. The other day at work the UPS man came in, he's has zero personality, I've never seen the man smile, or say anything besides "Sign here Please", so I said to him, when are you going to bring me some flowers in one of those boxes? I said that because Wes was just sitting in the waiting room area just relaxing. However the UPS man had no idea Wes was my husband, I was sending a hint to Wes, not the UPS guy, but he didn't take it that way. He got all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt; turned all red, like I was hitting on him. I just started laughing, because I realized what that must have sounded like, so In the dead silence I hurry and said That's my husband over there, I was just sending HIM a hint, but it really didn't help the situation. Anyway Wes got the hint, Kim got flowers, a good laugh, but the UPS guy hasn't made eye contact with me since. Still, totally worth flowers..... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt;, I wasn't in the mood for the normal Easter Ham, so I bought two pork loin roasts and marinated them for 2 days - Holy Cow - they were awesome. It was such a great easy meal that I picked up two more at Costco &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;yesterday&lt;/span&gt;. I love quick, good easy dinners that taste fancy, when there really not....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So that's it.....it's Spring, the weather is finally in the upper 40's, my kids are home from school all week, were heading on a little vacation at the end of the week to Madison, I wish my family lived closer, according to Tye I'm a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;chunky&lt;/span&gt;, Wes earned some serious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lovin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I'm getting worse at keeping up with this blog, my new favorite meal to cook is pork loin, the trampoline is up, just got done having a picnic with my kids, I'm totally into Amiercan Idol this season, Taylor's worn pajamas for two days &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;straight&lt;/span&gt;, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;raspberries&lt;/span&gt; are pruned (thanks to my great Dad) and my windows are open enjoying the fresh air......a great day to be alive!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3122081290211152142?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3122081290211152142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3122081290211152142&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3122081290211152142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3122081290211152142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/04/great-easter.html' title='A Great Easter'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6194885731139471618</id><published>2009-04-16T13:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T13:54:25.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.11NXC/bHQ9MTIzOTkwODA*MjI2NSZwdD*xMjM5OTA4MDU3NjI1JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mb2Y9MA==.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/76c927a8.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=76c927a8.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6194885731139471618?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6194885731139471618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6194885731139471618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6194885731139471618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6194885731139471618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_16.html' title=''/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1294879034540152050</id><published>2009-03-23T06:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T20:15:50.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights</title><content type='html'>So I'm in the same boat as last week. Another weeks rolls bye and I have to try and play catch up on my blogging. Life has been great, busy, but not overwhelming like some weeks. I am cooking mac-n-cheese for dinner tonight, so that buys me a little time to post a few highlights of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Build a Bear - it's Tate's new obsession, and I'm not kidding when I say obsession. He went there a few weeks for a birthday party and hasn't stopped talking about it since. He keeps asking when he can go there for his birthday....Trust me, Wes and I are not thrilled about this new obsession, nor do I like the price tag that comes along with it. However we did buckle down and take him there. We made his use his own money, which he didn't mind, but he added another bear to his collection. He has plans for 3 or 4 more bears so he's been really good about cleaning the bathrooms lately. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316350268941375746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4ZwHNmQI/AAAAAAAAAsU/O3ZlWfKfjBw/s320/DSC00418.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Of course once we got there it's so hard to not have fun. They really do have so many cute ideas and fun bears. It was fun to watch the kids stuff the bear, kiss the heart and all the junk you find yourself getting caught up in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tate picked out a black bear this time with a jogging suit and I helped him put it together. Tye was the photographer for the day, but he really did good job, although Tate looks likes he's totally buzzed.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4a-tS-SI/AAAAAAAAAsk/EC_etFL5RJY/s1600-h/DSC00422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316350290039077154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4a-tS-SI/AAAAAAAAAsk/EC_etFL5RJY/s320/DSC00422.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes helped Taylor (and had some help for the ladies), she picked out a glitter halter top, a mini skirt, pink cowboy boots, a hot pink purse and bright pink bows for her bear......heaven help me when she's older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4aG8AGII/AAAAAAAAAsc/JEXGcqaBNx4/s1600-h/DSC00421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316350275068369026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4aG8AGII/AAAAAAAAAsc/JEXGcqaBNx4/s320/DSC00421.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final outcome actually turned out super cute, and I'm now an official build a bear "stuff" club member! (Too bad I can't stuff their bears with some junk from my trunk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316355407907206194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd9E4QJNDI/AAAAAAAAAs0/qwPz6tpa7VA/s320/DSC00425.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The next fun stop for the weekend was the Bulls and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sorry for the interruption but Wes just saw what I fixed for dinner and asked me....."How come the more money I make the cheaper food you buy? I said, we'll I've been busy today and didn't have time to fix dinner. He said, "I don't mind the mac-n-cheese but why in the heck does it have to be great value...it tastes like....____? Can't you at least by something decent. I can't stop laughing. I did cut up a cantaloupe and make brownies so it would at least be a three course meal.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O.K. so the next fun stop for the week was the Dodge Rodeo circuit that came to town. Our family always has fun at the rodeo. Of course I'd never been to a rodeo before marrying Wes, but I really do like them (They always make me feel patriotic for some reason). We started going when we lived at the Village, we went to the Ogden Days Rodeo which is still one of the best ones we've ever been to. We've been to the NFR and many other big ones, but I like the little hometown rodeos. I want to have a village reunion with all our old friends one day and head to the rodeo. We use to have to wait until 7:30, because we couldn't afford the tickets every night, but I think it would be fun to round everyone up and go again. My camera battery died two minutes into the show, but we did manage a few shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4ZVH8BrI/AAAAAAAAAsM/ef4f85dyhs8/s1600-h/DSC00414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316350261696661170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4ZVH8BrI/AAAAAAAAAsM/ef4f85dyhs8/s320/DSC00414.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My kids have spent the entire last week playing rodeo and once Tate found out that the cowboys won money for riding bulls he thinks he's found his calling in life. (Over my dead body)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4Y5yZQqI/AAAAAAAAAsE/LnifOBQ5DEU/s1600-h/DSC00410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316350254358545058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4Y5yZQqI/AAAAAAAAAsE/LnifOBQ5DEU/s320/DSC00410.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1zAlLonI/AAAAAAAAAr8/htQstavpIVY/s1600-h/DSC00409.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316347404323889778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1zAlLonI/AAAAAAAAAr8/htQstavpIVY/s320/DSC00409.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So on Friday I really had nothing to do. It was a really beautiful day so Taylor was out sitting on her bench and I realized how terrible her hair was.....O.K. so you can't see it up close, but it was rough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1ydKf5jI/AAAAAAAAArs/-P52GeEV8yY/s1600-h/DSC00401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316347394816730674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1ydKf5jI/AAAAAAAAArs/-P52GeEV8yY/s320/DSC00401.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had passed by this little boutique/salon called Snips &amp;amp; Giggles. It's a little Salon totally dedicated to little kids. Yes, it was over the top, and yes, it was worth every penny. She LOVED it, they papered her completely. She got her hair cut in the little pink Cadillac and boy did she think she was hot stuff......it was really fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316347366815189314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1w02aSUI/AAAAAAAAArc/QYLYIHH7auY/s320/DSC00405.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The place was decked out to the nines, and of course Wes, Sitting on the Princess couch had to make every smart remark possible. He kept calling the place a beauty parlor and the stylists were totally laughing at him. He kept looking around at all the frilly stuff and rolling his eyes at the price tag, but he footed the bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1xrKEt6I/AAAAAAAAArk/slD8pCPoHmE/s1600-h/DSC00404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316347381393176482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1xrKEt6I/AAAAAAAAArk/slD8pCPoHmE/s320/DSC00404.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She picked out some new hair bows and I went with the decision to grow out her bangs.....a decision I'm hoping I won't regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316347399619244386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd1yvDgcWI/AAAAAAAAAr0/SGb8ZEPNEpk/s320/DSC00406.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Ready for the NFL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This little boy seriously believes he's going to the top. His whole life is playing football or beating his Dad on the wii. He has wanted football pants and pads for months, and finally saved up enough money to buy them. We found a used store (Play it again Sports) and found pads, pants, and a practice jersey. He's lived in them every since. He even wore the shoulder pads on the way home. I don't have the heart to tell him his chances will be slim, I only tell him to keep practicing. Now, he's saving for a helmet, but I refuse to rain on his dreams....reality will hit soon enough in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316355414647175010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd9FRXE92I/AAAAAAAAAs8/GAgcex9v8uE/s320/DSC00436.JPG" border="0" /&gt;So that's the highlights, the weekly Davis wrap up that I hope to get better at!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1294879034540152050?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1294879034540152050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1294879034540152050&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1294879034540152050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1294879034540152050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/03/highlights.html' title='Highlights'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Scd4ZwHNmQI/AAAAAAAAAsU/O3ZlWfKfjBw/s72-c/DSC00418.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-5945805256352601938</id><published>2009-03-16T16:22:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T19:18:26.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Catch Up</title><content type='html'>I go on spurts, I love blogging, then I get so far behind I put it off.  By the time I have the time to actually get a few things posted I get overwhelmed, don't post anything...can you tell this is a very complicated relationship, this whole blogging world.  Instead of posting about everything, I'll pick the highlights of the last week. Here's a quick catch up on the Davis Family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Last Sunday I had New Beginnings planned for YW.  I have spent months preparing for this night, we were doing a full dinner and had a awesome theme of "Following the Light".  Did I mention I spent months preparing for this.....needless to remind everyone of where we live, Sunday morning we woke up to a massive Winter Storm Warning.  I was on my way to the church with my second car load of decorations food, handouts and the works when my bishop called and asked us to reschedule.  My life has never gone according to plan. We did get over 8 inches of snow in a 5 hour period, so I shouldn't complain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The rest of the week consisted of the norm.  I volunteered in both the boys classrooms, worked too much at the office, probably did about 16 loads of laundry, and can't even count how many times I sweep the floor last week.  There is still no sign of spring, the only change that has occurred is the amount of Mud my kids seem to come in contact with.  Even today after school we have so much snow melting that the boys find hours of entertainment playing in the mud. It's real cute until you spend every night cleaning their shoes for school in the morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I let my boys have a sleep over with friends, (I'm still finding popcorn kennels in weird spots.)  They also stayed up until 2:00 in the morning, they obviously didn't inherit that from me.   But I love their friends, they are such nice boys.  The next day I took them to the circus.  I'd never been to the circus, and can't say I'll be returning anytime soon......(Young Mexican Girls in Vegas Show room costumes swinging around ropes really did a number on my little boys.)  Although I totally LOVED the elephants, strange, but they were really amazing.  We also saw a guy fall off the tight ropes, and that was a little scary.  But it was fun..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EZlaJ14I/AAAAAAAAArU/2dPt7FsOVrU/s1600-h/DSC00368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313900554161346434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EZlaJ14I/AAAAAAAAArU/2dPt7FsOVrU/s320/DSC00368.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EY3yCfDI/AAAAAAAAArM/d_oOaH8PDeM/s1600-h/DSC00370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313900541913496626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EY3yCfDI/AAAAAAAAArM/d_oOaH8PDeM/s320/DSC00370.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had like 16 pictures of the elephants on my camera....what in the heck am I going to do with 16 pictures of elephants......Below are the boys with their friends and overpriced snow cones!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EYT0h0qI/AAAAAAAAArE/pN_1pminAJQ/s1600-h/DSC00360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313900532260262562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EYT0h0qI/AAAAAAAAArE/pN_1pminAJQ/s320/DSC00360.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did come across a fabulous Mexican Restaurant last week, and have been back twice.  After living in Arizona and having a taste of real Mexican food were pretty picky, but finally found a spot.  I also went to a performance at the college of Beauty and the Beast.....so I thought.  I took all the mutual girls with me, to expose them a little culture, so I told them.  When we got there I learned that the performance was actually being put on by the Green Bay Dance Academy.  I thought we'd be Ok.....oh I was so wrong.  By the end of the first act I knew I was in trouble.  Belle was in her 40's.  I am so not kidding.  I even opened up my program to read about her and it said she'd been dancing for 38 years......(It was a long performance.)  The worst part was that I couldn't stop laughing.  I would start laughing so hard at some of the scenes that I would start shaking.  The last straw occurred when the beast finally took off his mask and he had grey hair and a massive bald spot....He had to be in his early 60's....Please someone take me out of my misery.  My mutual girls couldn't stop making fun of me for taking them....and I seriously laughed the whole way home.  So much for culture, I should have known when we were the youngest people in the audience!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can tell you that it's finally starting to warm up.  We rode our horses 3 times last week, and actually reached over 40 degrees....twice.  It felt so nice on Saturday that we put the sun roof down as we were running errands, seriously 40 feels like 85 after what we've been through! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that's about all from last week...never a dull moment, a quick catch up on our everyday adventures!  I have decided that life is never going to slow down....I just keep hanging on for dear life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-5945805256352601938?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/5945805256352601938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=5945805256352601938&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5945805256352601938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/5945805256352601938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/03/catch-up.html' title='The Catch Up'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sb7EZlaJ14I/AAAAAAAAArU/2dPt7FsOVrU/s72-c/DSC00368.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1865002239245273102</id><published>2009-03-05T16:47:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T07:40:42.136-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No luck yet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I started off thinking Scouts was going to be so fun for Tye.  Since the ward does not have a scout troop (we barely have a ward) I found a troop for Tye at school.  I didn't realize at the time, the heartache and effort that would come into this little activity.  We tried the rain gutter regatta (the boat race) and got disqualified (Wes built the boat wrong).  Next was the space Derby (rockets) Which my Dad helped Tye and he actually won a few rounds, but lost.  But on Tuesday Night - the Pine Wood Derby was here......I actually had hope.  I talked to a few people about weights, wheels etc.....Do you think it brought any luck?  Look at the Little Blue car in the next picture......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309843184650467122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBaPmIetzI/AAAAAAAAAq8/cc92Dzn8F0Q/s320/Feb+2009+087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;seriously&lt;/span&gt; got smoked....Not even a chance.  I had mutual that night so poor Wes has to bear through the heartache alone. At one point in the night his other car didn't even make it down the track, a guy had to give it a little"push"!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Honestly&lt;/span&gt;, what are the chances, we totally stink at scouting. When I got home later that night, I found this on the kitchen counter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309841242278548850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBYeiO7VXI/AAAAAAAAAqU/t45aDfadsiI/s320/Feb+2009+099.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Look at his car, can you tell he's a Colts Fan? I opened up the letter and this is what it said....&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309841252747420146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBYfJO5ofI/AAAAAAAAAqc/TnRvrAaRHM4/s320/tye-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;No "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;chrofy&lt;/span&gt;" for Tye.  He did win a box of skittles.  I think he won the skittles because they felt so sorry for having to push his car down the track.  He thinks he won the skittles because he was "real close" to a trophy. I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's a good thing life isn't all about races.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Last weekend Wes took him on his first Winter Scout Camp, and he loved it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBaPPrgqeI/AAAAAAAAAq0/VcmFS0LS_vo/s1600-h/DSC00341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309843178623379938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBaPPrgqeI/AAAAAAAAAq0/VcmFS0LS_vo/s320/DSC00341.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were all kinds of Winter Activities ice fishing, sledding, and he earned a bunch of other badges. The camp was nice, according to Wes (minus the men snoring - Wes called me twice to demonstrate how some of the men were snoring in his cabin) But they had a great time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love the next picture of them ice fishing. Although like many other things, the Davis Family Fishing skill's stink.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBYfgAc47I/AAAAAAAAAqk/8omx86uzLqQ/s1600-h/DSC00340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309841258860831666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBYfgAc47I/AAAAAAAAAqk/8omx86uzLqQ/s320/DSC00340.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309841239787561186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBYeY9B4OI/AAAAAAAAAqM/97-7ZJhxf1U/s320/DSC00337.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, he still loves scouts, and maybe by the time he's getting ready to finish I learn how to sew all those patches on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309841230925697890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBYd38Mk2I/AAAAAAAAAqE/qNXuYA9B96c/s320/DSC00129.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1865002239245273102?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1865002239245273102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1865002239245273102&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1865002239245273102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1865002239245273102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/03/no-luck-yet.html' title='No luck yet'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SbBaPmIetzI/AAAAAAAAAq8/cc92Dzn8F0Q/s72-c/Feb+2009+087.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-3673103464931718086</id><published>2009-02-28T07:07:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T07:45:06.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Princess!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Today, 4 years ago at 2:45 pm Taylor Michelle, my only baby girl was born....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307834680996890834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hS9RiNI/AAAAAAAAAok/bQDD05vjC0c/s320/TAY+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Suddenly a new kind of happiness came into our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307834680716870386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hR6gwvI/AAAAAAAAAos/EEUPjNEVrM4/s320/TAY+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tate got his new Best Friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hn4cw7I/AAAAAAAAAo8/XpI6cZo-b0g/s1600-h/TAY+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307834686613799858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hn4cw7I/AAAAAAAAAo8/XpI6cZo-b0g/s320/TAY+6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tye had his new "Sissy" &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307835077597527490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak34YaO_cI/AAAAAAAAApM/b_xTm4RCWbI/s320/TAY+7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Dad found his "Princess"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307835078601145538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak34cJg_MI/AAAAAAAAApE/UY3D6YFWBAc/s320/TAY+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Mom think's we've known each other for eternity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hibfGnI/AAAAAAAAAo0/EKCbO4sVJRg/s1600-h/TAY+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307834679649647906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hN8EPSI/AAAAAAAAAoc/9ja1jJZEDDE/s320/TAY+5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;At 1, she was shy, timid and very observant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307835080313506498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak34ihxisI/AAAAAAAAApU/nNxdXT34Sxg/s320/TAY+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; At 2, a little spark of personality appeared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307841451599692914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak9rZaxhHI/AAAAAAAAApc/LWQvUkdq6l0/s320/June+2007+056a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;By 3, she had found her "calling" in life...according to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307841454211530962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak9rjJfANI/AAAAAAAAApk/uIDbwwrqhps/s320/October+2007+048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at 4, she still is and always will be one of the happiest things that ever happened to Us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307841461094862658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 309px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak9r8ymT0I/AAAAAAAAAp0/-ZeQbQG0onI/s320/Fall+Family+08+054a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Miss Taylor Michelle, Your Family Loves you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-3673103464931718086?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/3673103464931718086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=3673103464931718086&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3673103464931718086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/3673103464931718086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-princess.html' title='Happy Birthday Princess!'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/Sak3hS9RiNI/AAAAAAAAAok/bQDD05vjC0c/s72-c/TAY+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-725790533234495054</id><published>2009-02-25T07:24:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T08:15:13.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Days to Remember.....or not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It was just another Monday…Right? I decided I needed to write this post for my posterity. I also decided that days like Monday should be kept and remembered because one day I’ll look back and miss this…so they say!&lt;br /&gt;Monday Morning around 4:45 I wake up in between Tye and Taylor in bed. I snuggle up to each one, and then realize Tye is burning with fever. Knowing I had a sick child cancelled all my plans for the day, but I thought I could still manage a few things. I then sneak out and start getting ready for Presidency Meeting. I make cinnamon rolls, muffins, do the dishes, pick up the house, clean the bathroom as Tate is crawling out of bed and Taylor is crying because I won’t let her make hot chocolate in her kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;I get Tate up, pack his lunch, make breakfast, find his snow clothes scattered through the house and get him off to school. I get back just in time to type up an agenda for Presidency meeting and put the finishing touches on the New beginnings Invitations. 9:00 Presidency Arrives to Taylor crying because Tye’s not sharing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wii&lt;/span&gt;. 11:00 Presidency meeting is done, Taylor starts crying because they are leaving (why….I have NO idea)&lt;br /&gt;I do the dishes from breakfast at presidency meeting, and go to my friend’s web site to find the recipes I need for Dinner with the missionaries that night(Thank you Chris-I rely on that way to much). Start getting the ham ready, fix lunch for Tye and Taylor, start making a fruit salad. Taylor starts crying because she wants cereal, instead of a sandwich. The phone rings, it’s the school and Tate has a Temperature of 102 and I need to go and get him.&lt;br /&gt;After that called Wes and told him I have to run to the grocery store, because I don’t have everything I need for Dinner, he comes home and takes over with sick kids. Talk to our friend who is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;financial&lt;/span&gt; planner and tells us how much money we are losing in the stock market. Get the mail and realize I haven’t paid the bills for the month. I run to the grocery store get home; look at the mess that is created by having children home from school but start cooking. Wes goes back to work. Check my email, post a small blog and Cook a pound of bacon to go into another salad. Make the potatoes, Jell-O salad, green bean casserole and start to finish the last salad, and the bacon disappeared. I hurry cook another pound of bacon, get the broccoli salad finished and decide that it’s too quite in the basement. I go down stairs to find cinnamon rolls upside down on the carpet and my kids watching "Flipper" eating the pound of bacon. I scream (Taylor cries) tell them that they are not allowed food in the basement and get out the Green Machine (This is the best invention in the world….a little portable carpet cleaner) to get frosting out of the carpet.&lt;br /&gt;I get finished, get upstairs, do the dishes, and set the table (and Taylor cries because I started without her and she wanted to put the forks on) by this point I’m running out of steam. I hide the table centerpiece in the tub behind the shower curtain because I’m too tired to carry everything down stairs. I look at the bathroom, realizing I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; got to clean it again, (I have little boys remember). I pay Tate 25 cents to clean the toilet and I start picking up the disaster of memory, sorry and chutes and ladders all over the living room floor. Taylor cries, because I’m putting her games away. I grab the vacuum again, check on the food cooking and realize I haven’t even combed my hair for the day. It’s close to 5, I have a half hour till they arrive so I head for the tub, and realize it is literally the first time I have sat down for the day. Taylor walks in, starts crying because she wants to take a bath. The phone rings for the 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time and it's my Aunt in California telling me that she thinks my mother has had a stoke, spend the next hour calling my sister, Aunt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Delrae&lt;/span&gt; and Dad and deciding if my Mom should go in for her heart pacer surgery Wednesday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pull myself together and make a poor attempt to comb my hair and put on lipstick, start filling up the glasses for dinner and the emptied the dishwasher for the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time and Wes walks in and starts helping. Taylor starts crying because Wes puts the silverware away, he sends her to her room because "he does not want to listen to her cry"……..WHY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;DIDN&lt;/span&gt;’T I THINK OF THAT!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The missionaries arrive, my kids are sick, irritable, tired and have terrible fevers. We finish dinner, have family home evening with the elders, (we have 3 sets of missionaries in our ward….in case you were wondering why I have to cook the amount of food that I do) They bring such a nice spirit in our home that I forget (for a minute) how much effort it took to survive the day. My kids fall asleep all over the floor, the missionaries leave. I look at the mess…more dirty dishes and Wes starts begging me to come to bed instead of doing the dishes. (He’s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; tired and would feel guilty if I stayed up to clean up) I go to bed….knowing that in the morning I will be waking up to more dishes…..and probably Taylor crying!!!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So in another 20 years, and my toilets are urine free, my house is clean, there are no board games scattered, my carpet actually stays clean, I sleep with Wes alone, I actually remember to comb my hair, can maybe fill a dishwasher once a day, have peace &amp;amp; quiet and no crying, will be to old to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;YW&lt;/span&gt; president and too tired to fix a 6 course meal for the missionaries and being the one on the edge of having a stroke, I want to remember these days........................maybe!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Home Sweet Home.....Sometimes,Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-725790533234495054?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/725790533234495054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=725790533234495054&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/725790533234495054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/725790533234495054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/02/days-to-rememberor-not.html' title='Days to Remember.....or not?'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6703195165633908407</id><published>2009-02-23T12:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T12:09:55.693-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter two - The Tea Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I've dug myself into a hole.....Taylor now knows what it's like to have a Birthday Party and since my family SPOILED - i mean SPOILED the daylights out of her, she keeps asking me when she gets to have another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bippidi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Boopidi&lt;/span&gt; Boo party (as she calls it).  I keep telling her that is only happens once in a while, she thinks it should be a daily event.  The party couldn't have been better, thank you to my wonderful family who 1.  Spoils my children  2. Love me unconditionally and 3.  who I couldn't live without!  The pictures are below.....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/kimsig.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-6703195165633908407?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/6703195165633908407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=6703195165633908407&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6703195165633908407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/6703195165633908407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/02/chapter-two-tea-party.html' title='Chapter two - The Tea Party'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i534.photobucket.com/albums/ee349/GDest07/HomeSweetHome%20Sometimes/th_kimsig.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-1528934384263336294</id><published>2009-02-23T11:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T11:59:57.310-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Taylor's Princess Tea Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:400px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w421.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/e20d14a0.pbw" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s421.photobucket.com/albums/pp292/homesweethomesometimes/?action=view&amp;current=e20d14a0.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8789342042856363134-1528934384263336294?l=homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/feeds/1528934384263336294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8789342042856363134&amp;postID=1528934384263336294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1528934384263336294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8789342042856363134/posts/default/1528934384263336294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://homesweethomesometimes.blogspot.com/2009/02/taylor-princess-tea-party.html' title='Taylor&amp;#39;s Princess Tea Party'/><author><name>Kimberly Davis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11584131799649297091</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SKgUyxS5rdI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/gbFHTAJXAVw/S220/May+08+071a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8789342042856363134.post-6957827804727586195</id><published>2009-02-18T09:03:00.014-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T12:32:35.101-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip Summary - Chapter 1 California</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw_b4tR_SI/AAAAAAAAAoM/r8ENCaqwfuc/s1600-h/DSC00244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304184209446927650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw_b4tR_SI/AAAAAAAAAoM/r8ENCaqwfuc/s320/DSC00244.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All right, I will admit it, California was fabulous.....how can anyone not love the place (minus traffic) but I love it. Of course, I also do not know many 30 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; who love Disneyland as much as me...Here is a re-cap of our adventure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Entry picture...where our clothes and faces are still clean and my hair is halfway decent. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304166866983276738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZwvqa_vUMI/AAAAAAAAAlc/gsxj17qm66U/s320/DSC00193.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Taylor's face when she realizes there is a 2 hour line to see the princesses....that was of course the whole reason for the trip....according to Taylor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304178276965051362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw6CkfYa-I/AAAAAAAAAnU/uVH1xyIdI-k/s320/DSC00198.JPG" border="0" /&gt; I of course was thrilled that It's a small world ride was open again (after construction) I was excited to go.....Tye and Tate started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt;, "This is a Baby Ride" ..."I'm not going on some stupid ride with Dolls"...."This is crap (a saying my kids use way to much)"....Notice Tye's face in the next picture....he was not happy....&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304166869794037666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZwvqld4H6I/AAAAAAAAAlk/oWfxrViUzIw/s320/DSC00202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304166872515762242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZwvqvmyWEI/AAAAAAAAAls/fnlLD6A1p4M/s320/DSC00204.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ironic part, is once we got inside and started going through all the country's the boys liked it as much as Taylor. We would go around each corner and they would try to figure out what country we were in. We turned a corner into a farm and they screamed "Were in Wisconsin", the next corner was a desert and they yelled "Now were in Arizona".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes thought I was crazy when I said that was one of my funnest rides, but I have so many lifetime memories climbing on those boats with all my family over the years, that I loved it, now I have a family of my own, it's amazing how much time changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304174948163060066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw3AzvJAWI/AAAAAAAAAnE/dU7iqgB5ve8/s320/DSC00180.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly can't tell you how many times we just sat on the park benches, enjoyed the sunshine and nice weather and ate snacks. Seriously Disneyland makes a killing on my pocket book, by the time the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;snackfest&lt;/span&gt; is over! We can seriously inhale, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;churros&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cotton&lt;/span&gt; candy (my favorite) lemonade freeze things, ice cream and Wes went on a limb and bought this huge Turkey leg.....it was out of control, my sister totally was grossed out, but my kids ate it up. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Unbelievable&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw6DOidp4I/AAAAAAAAAns/ELC0qIg6fzc/s1600-h/DSC00243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304178288252266370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw6DOidp4I/AAAAAAAAAns/ELC0qIg6fzc/s320/DSC00243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304178283923794002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw6C-aeaFI/AAAAAAAAAnc/GFpVbfBTSZo/s320/DSC00249.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304174953524843250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw3BHtfUvI/AAAAAAAAAnM/cZFKGM1XIaA/s320/DSC00247.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how we roll at Disney...the problem is the kids want to race and my sister and husband can be a little competitive, but it's part of the fun! I won't even admit how many people we have run into!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw6C0E4_YI/AAAAAAAAAnk/AdTLb_gawAI/s1600-h/DSC00274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304178281148906882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZw6C0E4_YI/AAAAAAAAAnk/AdTLb_gawAI/s320/DSC00274.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can't go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Disneyland&lt;/span&gt; without trying on some of the crazy hats. I tried to talk my kids into buying those mickey ears with their spending money, and no way. It didn't even thrill them that they would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;embroider&lt;/span&gt; their names on them. They wanted these out of control hats that I honestly would not spend money on. (Honestly where would you even wear those????)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304169524416007538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FrgWWqftPXM/SZwyFGtEzXI/AAAAAAAAAmk/zgB9J6w8JPM/s320/DSC00232.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Tate, of course with the big clown hat......describes him perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304169522101940466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; T
